


From Heaven and Hell

by Tassos



Category: Angel: the Series, Farscape
Genre: Crossover, Gen, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-08-09
Updated: 2000-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassos/pseuds/Tassos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hot on the trail of D'argo's kidnapped son, the crew of Moya trace him to Los Angeles where they find themselves in need of a private detective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Heaven and Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Farscape Season 2 through HOTR and Angel Season 1. Additional warning that this was the first fic I ever wrote.

On a peaceful farm of North Procia, the sun shone brightly. The countryside that was far removed from the bustle of the spaceport was so green that it hurt, the chaff almost ripe for the harvest. However, the tranquility of the scene was broken by the shouting coming from the farmhouse.

"Where is he?!" D'argo yelled at the quailing, yellow biped on the other side of a sturdy table.

"They had to leave about half a monen ago," the Procin farmer stuttered, his large purple eyes wide with fear. "Rai G'arin said that the Peacekeeper's were getting too close."

D'argo roared in frustration, the growl rumbling through his seven foot frame causing the poor farmer cringe even further back. He cast his eyes about the small, spartan farmhouse looking for something to break into tiny splinters. The solid wooden furniture was too weathered but the various clay pots neatly shelved looked promising. However, before D'argo could vent his rage and despair on the unsuspecting pots, John Crichton put a restraining hand on his arm.

"We'll find him, D'argo," he said gazing steadily into his friend's eyes. "We're not far behind."

"But still too far away!" D'argo jerked his arm from John's grasp and smashed his fist into the nearest pot, sending shards and yellow grains everywhere, and the poor farmer scurrying under the table. John swallowed hard, glancing nervously at the fuming Luxan. D'argo was on the verge of full-blown hyper-rage, and having experienced Luxan kill-everything-in-sight hyper-rage once before, John knew that he definitely didn't want it directed at him.

"Where did G'arin say they were going?" John asked quickly, addressing the yellow head that nervously poked itself above the table.

"He said," quaked the Procin "' Where Durin’s wrath met both triumph and defeat.'" The farmer's fear filled eyes never left the pacing D'argo. He leaned his head out a little further and whispered hopefully to the human, "Are you leaving now?"

"Yes, thank you," said John with a glance at D'argo. The warrior was muttering “Durin. . . first battle or the second?”. A semblance of calm had returned to his face and then he nodded sharply in understanding. "Got it?" asked John. D'argo merely glowered at him and left the house.

 

* * *

 

Eight solar days later, the crew of Moya stood in command staring at the image of a lifeless ship with signs of weapons fire on its red tinged hull.

"It appears to be a Luxan scout ship," Pilot, Moya’s symbiote, informed them from his clamshell image. Everyone looked at D'Argo, accepting his leadership for the situation. He licked his dry lips before answering in a hushed breath.

"We board."

 

* * *

 

D'argo hadn't been on a scout vessel since his days as a young warrior. This ship reminded him of his youth, of the freedom and pride he had felt on his first military assignment. The same pride he had felt when Jothee was born. Jothee. Would he find his precious son dead on this dead ship? D'argo quickly swallowed the lump in his throat. After years of imprisonment and searching, to be so close, would he fail, have come too late?

D'argo fought off the fear as he cautiously led John and Aeryn through the corridor that connected the airlock with command. They passed closed doors in the corridor, doors, D'argo knew, that led to crew quarters and the galley. He was only interested in command.

When they reached it, the door to command was partly open and the smell of death assaulted D'argo's sensitive nose. He paused in front of the red portal, afraid of whom he might find just beyond it. Closing his eyes, D'argo whispered a prayer to Zhaan's Kahleen and his own people's forgotten gods: please let it not be Jothee.

D'argo took a firmer grip on his Qualta Blade, glancing at both Crichton and Aeryn, who had already flanked the doorway, weapons ready. Gingerly, D'argo pushed the door the rest of the way open. His companions swung in to secure the room, but no enemies awaited them. Instead they found D'Argo's old friend and comrade, Rai G'arin, lying dead in a pool of his own blood.

D'argo stared at his dead friend, protector of his son. A dozen memories of training, battle, and planet-leave flashed before his eyes as he silently said goodbye. But where was Jothee? What had happened? Grief welled up inside him; tears stinging his eyes. He had lost both G'arin and Jothee forever. The flame of hope that had flared when they had first picked up Jothee's trail died at that moment.

"D'argo." He turned to the human beside him. John's blue eyes held concern and sympathy. It still amazed him that this strange creature, who had become both his friend and brother, was there for him.

"I've lost him, John," he said softly, desperately trying to hold himself together as John placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, unsure of what else to do.

Suddenly Aeryn gasped in surprise. She was kneeling next to G'arin's body, staring at something on the floor. "D'argo, Chrichton, come look at this."

Written in blood was a final message from G'arin. D'argo read the Luxan script aloud. "Sebacean bounty hunter, fuel leak."

The three looked at each other in surprise. A crooked grin started to stretch across John's face that D'argo couldn't help but mirror as hope surged through him again. He would see his son again and kill the frelling bastard who had stolen him.

"Let's go campers, we have a trail to follow," John quipped, jumping to his feet and heading for the airlock.

 

* * *

 

Several arns later, loud, crashing noises from the Center chamber attracted Chiana’s notice. Curious, the white-skinned young woman glided to the door, wondering if Rygel had discovered the little surprise she had left in his jar of slimy bugs. As she poked her head around the door, the grin on her face instantly disappeared at the sight before her.

The room looked like it had been hit by a windstorm, and Chiana supposed upon seeing D’argo leaning his head against the storage unit, it had been. Empty food containers and plates were scattered all over the floor and table. The indestructible chairs were dented and over turned, and two of the overhead shelf's supports were broken on the far side causing it to slope.

Chiana's first reaction was to run away from the scene, but the odd sight of D'argo so defeated made her pause.

"He must be fifteen now," he said suddenly, startling the young Nebari. Lifting his head to look at her, Chiana could see the pain in his face, the resignation, and it scared her. "He was just a baby when I was arrested. He probably won't remember me at all."

"Sure, he'll remember," Chiana said, trying to reassure him.

"Will he?" D'argo demanded softly. "I've been gone for nine cycles. I've missed him grow up!" he shouted, eyes blazing with fury and unshed tears. "All because I loved a woman of the wrong race!"

Chiana didn't know what to say. What could she say that would help the warrior before her? D'argo turned away, shaking in an effort to contain his roiling emotions.

"How will I be able to protect him when I couldn't even protect Lolann?" he asked in despair.

"We'll be here to help," Chiana said quietly. At her words, D'argo turned and almost managed a smile.

 

* * *

 

D'argo was pacing in command the next day when Moya found the wormhole. "Pilot, what is that?" he asked pushing back bitter memories from the last time he had seen one of these anomalies.

"It's a wormhole," confirmed Pilot, "and the fuel trail leads into it. I am comm-ing the others now." D'argo silently swore every oath he knew as the others arrived. If Jothee was on Earth . . . He dared not finish the thought.

 

* * *

 

John just stared at the wormhole in shock, unable to think straight. Is it real, or is it fake? he asked himself, suddenly and whimsically wishing for a daisy. He glanced over at Aeryn's rigid form. She probably needs a daisy too, he thought. Aeryn, sensing eyes on her looked back at him, her face a mask. John took a deep breath to steady himself and turned his eyes back to the sight before him. "OK, Pilot, what's the deal?"

Pilot hesitated before answering. "The trail leads into the wormhole."

"What?" screeched Rygel. The two foot dominar moved his floating throne-sled closer to the screen. "No, we are not going into that thing. Remember what happened the last time. We are-" he was suddenly cut off by Chiana's all too familiar hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

"Shut up froggie," she told him absently, still focused on the wormhole. Silence gripped the room, the crew lost in painful memories. The blue vortex before them just waited. "Your son's on the other side, right?" said Chiana shattering the silence.

D'argo nodded. "Yes," he breathed.

"Right, let's go then." The others looked at her in surprise, but didn't argue. The steel glint in Chiana's eyes bore into Rygel's, just daring him to disagree.

“Prepare to enter the wormhole.”

 

* * *

 

Earth. Again. Aeryn was not pleased. They had just entered orbit hiding behind the single moon while Pilot and Moya searched for the fuel trail that was somewhere down there. Of all the rotten planets in the galaxy, why did Jothee have to get stuck on that one? It did have a few redeeming qualities, she conceded, but not many. And what if John wanted to stay? No, don't even think like that, she told herself sharply.

As if her thought had called him, John walked into command at that moment. "Hey, Aeryn, has Pilot found out where the bounty hunter landed yet?" he asked coming to stand beside her.

"Yes, here." She pointed to a spot on the map in front of her.

John snorted. "Great, Los Angeles." He sighed heavily. "It could be worse I suppose," he said.

"It could be Australia," Aeryn told him, her mind once more going to their prior disastrous, if false visit. He looked over at her sharply, scanning her face with his captivating blue eyes. "Another thing," she said breaking eye contact, "D'argo can't come with us. We can sneak in, but it's too dangerous for him."

John smiled slightly. "Especially with that temper of his." Aeryn smiled back at the thought of D'argo terrorizing even more humans with his hyper-rage. Maybe he should come after all…

"Aeryn," John said, suddenly serious. He stared at the floor a microt, avoiding her gaze, before looking up, understanding in his gaze. "I'm going for Jothee," he told her, his eyes locked on hers. "Only Jothee."

Aeryn nodded, fighting the urge to grin with wild relief.

Satisfied, John turned to go. "I'll talk to Zhaan about a sedative for D'argo." Aeryn nodded again as he left, his words had barely registered. All she could think was that he wasn’t going to stay.

 

* * *

 

On Earth, in the city of Los Angeles, it was sunset. Angel and Wesley were in Angel's office finishing some paper work on a recent case and ignoring Cordelia who was happily munching on pretzels in a chair talking about her latest audition.

"So anyway, he asked me to put on my best smile as I did the laundry. I mean what kind of idiot smiles when they do their nasty laundry. And you should have seen the stuff they put on those shirts! It's almost as bad as - AHHG! NO!" Cordelia screamed as a seer's migraine suddenly enveloped her.

Angel and Wesley jumped to their feet, sprang to her side, and waited for the vision to end while Cordelia writhed in pain. "Hello," snapped Cordelia when it was over. "I was in agony and you just sit there?" she demanded holding her throbbing head.

"But you're always all right and you love telling us how much pain you're in," Angel told her as he helped her up. Wesley didn't say anything, just handed her a couple of Tylenol. "What did you see?"

Cordelia glared up at Angel, debating on whether or not to tell him. Finally she grabbed a piece of paper and huffily wrote down what she saw.

"I don't know why I put up with you two," she muttered still out of sorts. "Hope you have fun!" Angel just smiled as he took the paper. ‘Charlie's’, he read the partial address, recognizing the place. ‘Man and woman, black hair, all in leather. Dump’. Dump?

"Right, I'm off," he said grabbing his coat.

"Need any help?" asked Wesley hopefully. Angel shook his head as he put on his long black coat then left the office. Cordelia hrumphed a surely goodbye through another pretzel.

 

* * *

 

At Charlie's, Angel ordered a beer and sat at a table in the back where he could watch the door. He always hated these times when he had to make contact with strangers who hadn't come to him first. He was never sure what to say or how to approach them. No matter how many times he thought it out, he usually ended up messing it up. Especially with women.

Angel's eyes roamed over the packed bar. It wasn't a huge joint but big enough for a healthy bunch of regulars. Dim light and cigarette smoke gave the place a comfortable shadowy atmosphere that had attracted Angel here when he'd first come to town. As he gazed about at the businessmen in shirtsleeves, the factory workers playing poker, the college kids, the lonely women, the depressed men, Angel smelled the alcohol in the air that was always tinged with sadness and a little fear.

A blond was leaving the bar when he saw them come in. The man had slightly spiked brown hair and the woman had her raven black hair in a ponytail. Both wore black, from their leather pants to their long concealing coats. Angel noticed they had an air of nervousness about them, as if they were expecting a fight at anytime. Two toughs on the wrong side of the law? he wondered studying the unnatural bulge on the woman's thigh. Meanwhile, the man carefully led the way to the bar, weaving between swaying customers and tables.

"Hey," the man said snagging Charlie's arm. "We're looking for a guy who stole something of ours. Know someone who could help us?" he asked. Charlie looked the two over then nodded toward Angel.

"He can help you," he told them.

"Thanks," said the man somewhat surprising Angel. He didn't look much like the thanking type. Both he and the woman turned to stare at him, their gazes locking onto his and never leaving as they walked over.

"Mind if we join you?" asked the man when they reached his table.

"No, sit down," said Angel gesturing at the seats across from him. At least he didn't have to get their attention, he thought with relief. "I'm Angel," he said extending his hand.

The man looked at it for a couple of seconds before clasping it in his own. "John," was all he said. "This is Aeryn." The woman nodded slightly, her face unreadable.

"So you're looking for someone who stole something from you?" Angel asked, seeing no point in trying to hide that he’d overhear them.

"Yeah, sort of," John said glancing at Aeryn.

"Have you tried the police?" Angel asked. He knew they hadn't but he wanted to see their reaction. John half smiled and Aeryn just stiffened even more if that was possible.

"Last thing we need right now is the police," John said. They stared at each other in silence for a minute. "Can we trust you?" John asked suddenly. Angel, captivated by John's eyes, eyes that spoke of fear and hope, immediately sensed that this man was a good man, even though he obviously had secrets. But then, so did Angel.

"Yes, you can trust me. Client confidentiality," he told them. Aeryn's eyes widened slightly as he said that. Angel could smell her fear, his heart twinging as he was the cause. She grabbed John's shoulder and whispered very softly in his ear, so Angel couldn't hear. He could hear John's deeper voice though.

"Aeryn, we have to trust someone. I don't know this city," he whispered back fiercely. Aeryn looked at him long and hard before saying something else. "Right. Go back there," John said pointing to the restrooms. Aeryn left the table and headed toward the back. She hesitated, quickly glancing at both signs on the matching doors before going in the ladies. John let out a tightly held breath and swung his gaze back to Angel.

"Not much of a people person is she?" asked Angel trying to ease the tension. John looked at him funny then grinned.

"No, she's not," he agreed. His eyes flickered to Angel's untouched drink before he spoke again. "Uh… this is going to sound weird, but could I have a sip of your beer?" Angel was taken aback by the request. A grin played around the corners of John's mouth as Angel passed him his Budweiser. He couldn't help but smile widely as he saw the look of ecstasy on the face of his mysterious client as he took a large gulp of the ice-cold liquid. This guy either drank too much or had been denied the pleasure for a really long time, Angel thought wryly as he continued to observe the man sitting across from him.

Suddenly Aeryn appeared back at the table, yanking John to his feet and dragging him towards the door. John pulled out of her grasp long enough for her to whisper something that elicited a "Frell!" from his lips. Then they were gone as quickly as they had come.

Angel muttered his own curse at their sudden disappearance as he dug in his pocket for money and the scrap of paper Cordelia had given him. "The dump. Right. Why are they going to the dump?" Angel shook his head as he tried to piece it all together while he headed for his car.

 

* * *

 

"So what do we do?" asked John. He and Aeryn were on a very slow city bus heading for the dump they had landed the Prowler in.

"I don't know. You're the one with all the brilliant ideas," muttered Aeryn scowling, careful to keep her voice low. She scanned the bus for possible threats for the hundredth time, a guy in a patched workcoat with no teeth blew her a kiss.

John stared out the window at the lighted cityscape of LA, barely noticing the drabby neighborhoods they drove through, each one more rundown and rat infested. But the lights - white squares dotting the skyscrapers, flashing green advertisements, street lights, stop lights, red radio towers - he had forgotten how beautiful they were lighting up the black sky. He blinked and the spell was broken.

"How did he wake up from Zhaan's potion?" he asked again softly, turning away from the window. Aeryn didn't bother to answer. "And Pilot said he was pissed?"

Aeryn nodded absently as she recognized their stop. “I think he was understating the case.”

“Yeah, well Pilot’s like that,” said John as they stood and made their way to the door. “D’argo ain’t exactly a kitten when he’s mad . . . or you know, trying to kill you.”

They got off the bus and headed toward the dump at a run, each of them racking their brains for how to stop D'argo from getting all of them killed.

"Aeryn," John gasped as they entered the shadow filled mountains of trash. She glanced over at him running beside her. "We'll have to take him by surprise and from behind."

“That’s your plan?” Aeryn threw back at him.

“You got a better one?”

And having none, Aeryn only sighed, “Right.”

 

* * *

 

Angel ran through the dark dump after his two would be clients, easily jumping over old tires and washing machines. He rounded the final corner around a messed up Chevy and froze at what he saw. John and Aeryn were crouching underneath a really big…thing. Angel didn't know what it was, but it was big and tan. Almost as soon as he saw it, stairs decended from a door in the side and a huge demon dressed in red with long tentacles, a beard, and a funny looking sword burst out. John, with a piece of pipe, and Aeryn, with some sort of gun, were on it in as soon as it hit the ground trying to bring it down. The demon roared, and turned on them and the humans jumped back and started attacking from both sides, but the demon was faster and stronger.

No more than a handful of seconds having passed, Angel plunged into the fray, surprising the demon from behind. The demon turned once again, forgetting the two people behind him, slashing with incredible strength at Angel with his odd sword. Angel dodged and kicked trying to get an advantage, but before he could attack, his adversary fell with a final roar to the ground in a heap.

Behind the demon's crumpled body, stood Aeryn and John bickering about something. He couldn't tell what because Aeryn was speaking in a language he had not heard before. And while this wasn’t terribly odd for one in his profession, it didn’t stop Angel from wondering just what the hell was going on with the two people currently oblivious to his presence.

 

* * *

 

"What do you mean you didn't remember?"

"I mean I didn't remember till I saw the blood vessel on the back of his neck. Hand to Hand with Alien Species was almost fifteen cycles ago," Aeryn explained.

John shook his head in wonderment. "We've lived together for over a cycle and you never noticed that spot before?"

"Well, it’s not as if I go around lifting up his tentacles all the time," Aeryn remarked.

"You better not," John grinned. Aeryn rolled her eyes. She gestured toward D'argo who was a heap on the ground.

"We better tie him up before he regains consciousness," she said. John nodded and turned toward the Luxan. It was then that he noticed Angel watching them.

Noticing that he had their attention, the man said, "So you wanna fill me in?”

 

* * *

 

Angel quickly put his hands in front of him when Aeryn raised her weapon at his question. John spoke first,

"You heard her, didn't you?" he said.

Angel realized that they didn’t know what he was so he nodded cautiously, wondering just what language Aeryn had been speaking. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you."

John shook his head slightly. "That's not what I'm worried about." John obviously had faith in the gun Aeryn was pointing at his gut.

"I won't turn you in to the police, if that's what you're afraid of," Angel told them. John's quick glance at Aeryn was answer enough. Aeryn said something in her strange language. It was nice language, different from the normal harshness of demon tongues, with little clicks interspersed in the syllables.

"How can we trust you?" John asked, rousing Angel from his contemplation of various languages he knew.

Here goes, he thought, the great unveiling of his identity. "I'm sort of the 'policeman' of demons and I was sent here to help you." Angel looked at both of them intently. Aeryn and John stared at him for a long moment, then looked to each other. Aeryn was clearly confused and John didn’t seem much better. He blinked his eyes a couple times. Aeryn was about to say something, but before she could, John interrupted.

"Wait a sec, Aeryn." He looked again at Angel, a small smile twitching on his mouth. "Demons. There are demons on Earth and you're the 'policeman'? You know how that sounds, right? And what do you mean sent? Who sent you and why should we trust you?"

Angel took a deep breath, knowing that the two wouldn't listen without a good reason. They were in some kind of trouble and they obviously thought they could handle it. And didn’t they already know about demons? "I just helped you defeat that demon," Angel said pointing to the creature on the ground. "I’m not going to hurt you.”

"No," said John his voice getting tight with anger. "That only means you haven’t hurt us yet. You think that because you help us knock out the big, bad wolf you're suddenly Prince Charming? Reality check: we can't keep a gun on you forever. Our lives are in your hands and that is unacceptable.”

“Why, because she speaks a demon language?” asked Angel, confused.

“You’re telling me you’re not going to run to the closest National Enquirer or National Guard?” John was skeptical.

“I’m not going to turn you in, no matter how weird you are,” Angel said again, but they didn’t seem any closer to believing him. Angel sighed, hating what he had to do. It was ironic that in order to help these people, he had to show his bad side. What would they think of him now? he wondered darkly, not that it really mattered - he was going to help them whether they wanted his help or not. Half exasperated with them, he shifted his human face into his vampire face.

John blinked and took a step back in surprise. “Whoa! That’s one ugly face!”

Aeryn however was unfazed. She said something to which John replied "He's not human." Aeryn said something else, and John, shaking his own shock away, turned towards her answering "Aeryn, I'd thought you'd gotten past shooting everything that scares you."

Angel shifted his face back to normal and tossed a wooden stake at John's feet. "Now my life is in your hands."

John picked up the stake and Angel could practically see the thoughts adding up in his head. Finally he looked up but to Aeryn and they gazed at each other for a long moment. Angel could only guess at what was passing between them. Finally, John said "I think we can trust him."

Aeryn suddenly looked into Angel's eyes. The vampire held his breath. This was some kind of test and he had to pass it. Finally she nodded to John and lowered her gun.

 

* * *

 

The unhuman human heaved a sigh of relief when Aeryn lowered her gun, making her feel a whole lot better for some reason. Whatever he was, it was unfamiliar and a shock to John, which didn't inspire her with confidence. As a soldier, unknown variables made her very nervous, but she had learned to trust John's instincts. The man had revealed himself to them, secret for secret, although Aeryn doubted he was very worried about them hurting him. The way he had fought D'Argo showed him to be a skilled warrior. Then there was the way he had jumped into the fight. It was something John would have done. That, more than anything else, earned him at least a measure of her trust.

D'argo groaned from where he lay on the ground, pulling Aeryn out of her thoughts. He was starting to regain consciousness and that was not good. "We need to tie him up before wakes," she told John who nodded absently in agreement. He stood with the wooden stake in his hands, taking in what Angel had revealed.

"Is there any cable on the pod?" he asked, as he collected himself, getting back to the business at hand.

"Should be in the equipment locker," she answered going over to D'argo while John went into the pod to get the cable.

D'argo was just an inelegant heap on the ground. One leg was under him and his torso was bent to the side. As Aeryn knelt next to him to make sure he was indeed unharmed, the stranger silently came up beside her. Startled, the ex- PeaceKeeper immediately jumped to her feet, smoothly redrawing her pulse pistol as she did so. The stranger stepped back in surprise, his hands in the open waiting for Aeryn to lower her weapon. When she did, an uncomfortable silence settled over them.

"Big guy," the - whatever - commented, shifting uncomfortably. Aeryn couldn't help but smile.

"That's what Crichton calls him," she said without thinking before she remembered that he didn't have any translator microbes.

"You can understand me right?" Angel asked. Aeryn nodded in reply as she squatted and finished her examination of D'Argo. The giant Luxan was fine; the blow she had dealt to his pressure point hadn't done any damage, nor had the ensuing fall.

Aeryn tried to straighten D'argo out and was surprised when Angel helped her shift his massive weight.

"Was he after you?" Angel asked making sure to phrase his question in a simple yes-no format that Aeryn answered by nodding her head.

"Well, I found some cable but I don't know if it will be enough," said John from behind them. Aeryn took a cord from the proffered bundle and started to tie D'argo's arms while John worked on his feet.

"I hope this is strong enough," she told John as she yanked a knot tight.

"What'd she say?" asked Angel who was watching them curiously. John glanced up at him before answering.

"She said she hopes the cable's strong enough. So do I." John finished the knot he was tying and stood up. "You said you were sent here to help us?" he asked. Angel nodded. "Know any place safe for us to take him?"

Now it was Angel's turn to be shocked and confused. "What?" he finally managed to say. "First you attack him, then you want to take him somewhere safe?"

Aeryn suddenly understood. "Crichton, he thinks D'argo's an enemy"

"Oh, no," John said to Angel, forgetting that he couldn't understand Aeryn, "he's a friend." Angel just shook his head.

"Wait, slow down. What did she say?" Angel asked frustrated at not being able to follow the conversation.

"Aeryn said that you thought D'argo was an enemy, but he's not. He's our friend," John explained.

"Now I'm really confused," said Angel looking back and forth between the two of them, his brow creased.

"D'argo's not someone you exactly talk out of a bad mood," John explained. Aeryn snorted at the understatement.

"I'm contacting Moya, let them know everything's under control for the moment," she told John leaving him to the explanations while she walked over to the transport pod and activated her comm.

"Pilot, this is Aeryn."

"Officer Sun, is everything alright," came Pilot's concerned reply.

"How's D'argo?" asked Zhaan before Aeryn could answer.

"D'argo's unconscious, but unharmed," she told them. "We're safe for the moment and we've found someone who might be able to help us find Jothee."

"Thank the Goddess," said Zhaan. "The sooner you are all safely aboard Moya again the happier I'll be."

"Me too," Aeryn fervently agreed. "I'll keep in touch."

 

* * *

 

So there are demons on Earth, thought John. Figures. He'd been to the restaurant at the end of the universe and back only to find out that his own planet was part of the franchise.

"So you're what, a vampire?" he asked Angel. He still couldn't believe that the man before him was not human when he looked so nice, and, well, normal. But then none of his closest friends were human either, he thought wryly.

"Yeah," said Angel.

"So why aren't you sucking my blood?" he asked almost dreading the answer. "This isn't some interview with a vampire thing is it?" John remembered the end of that movie all too well.

Angel smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm cursed with a soul."

Now what the frell did that mean, John wondered. He reasoned it must be something good because Angel hadn't killed them yet; instead he had actually helped them.

Aeryn came back then. She nodded to John that Moya and the rest were up to speed. He hoped they weren't too worried about them. At least this time they could keep in touch with each other.

"So, what are you?" asked Angel, fully grabbing John's attention. What were they? John began to laugh. Well, the vampire with a soul had given him a shock, so turnabout was only fair play.

"Well, I'm your garden variety, everyday, wormhole traveling human being. Aeryn's a Sebacean and D'Argo's a Luxan; they're both aliens."

Angel stared at him before quirking his eyebrows up in surprise. "Aliens?" he asked, disbelief coloring his voice.

John grinned. "Yep."

"You mean, from another planet? Not supernatural, but scientific aliens?" Angel seemed to have a hard time grasping that fact. "Okay," he said a bit shakily, putting a hand on his head trying to absorb it all. "I mean I've seen demons and crazy magic, and other dimensions, but real aliens from our own universe?" Angel shook his head but there was a small smile on his face. "No wonder you want to stay away from the government."

"So you'll still help us?" asked John suddenly nervous. They desperately needed his help and, after seeing his positive reaction to his alien friends, John trusted him even more.

"Yeah," replied Angel. "My car's this way."

 

* * *

 

An hour later they were in Angel's black convertible heading for his office. D'argo was tied up and unconscious on the backseat and John and Aeryn were next to Angel up front. As they drove through the dark streets, Angel half listened to John tell Aeryn everything he knew about demons and vampires, which wasn't much, while he, for his part, tried to get over the fact that he had real, same-dimension aliens in his car. Little, green men his ass, he thought glancing over at the beautiful Aeryn.

Angel had had plenty of experience in dealing with creatures from the various underworlds of Earth and a few other dimensions that were tied to Earth by one force or another, but never any that were completely unrelated. It was an incredible thought and Angel was shocked to find that he was surprised by this fact. He was so busy dealing with the nightmares of the world that he had never really considered the possibility of life on other planets.

He looked in the rearview mirror again at D'argo, his thoughts circling around the rest of the mystery they presented. Why would they attack a "friend"? Why did they insist he be tied up? And how the hell did John, an obvious human, get out into space with them in the first place? And how did he understand their language when he still spoke English? The questions would have to wait till they got back to the office. Angel looked at the clock; it was almost ten. Cordelia and Wesley would still be waiting for him. Wait till they found out about this, he thought, laughing to himself.

"And that's about all I know," he heard John say. "Zhaan would probably be better at explaining this than me." Aeryn said something in reply and John quietly laughed. "Darlin', I'm just a simple scientist. My planet or not, when it comes to the mystic, it's Zhaan's job to save us."

Who was Zhaan? wondered Angel as he pulled onto his street. He drove around to the back of the small office building and parked the car. "Here we are," he said jumping out. John and Aeryn quickly followed. They all stared at D'argo lying in the back, none of them cherishing the idea of lugging him inside. Their trek through the dump with the three of them hauling his huge bulk had not been a pleasant one.

"I think I'm gonna get help," said Angel looking at John who nodded. He turned and went to the front of the small office building and unlocked the door. Bounding up the stairs, he heard Wesley and Cordelia's bickering voices.

"Cordelia, I didn't mean…how do I put this?" Wesley was saying.

"Hey," said Angel sticking his head through the doorway.

"Any luck?" asked Wesley jumping up out of his chair, grateful for the diversion.

"How much they paying?" Cordelia asked at the same time. Angel groaned inwardly.

"We'll talk about that later. I need your help at the car." Curious, the two followed Angel back outside.

When they got to the car, John and Aeryn regarded his friends with suspicion. Aeryn's hand went to the weapon at her side, but she let them approach.

"I am not touching that thing," announced Cordelia after Angel told them they had to get D'argo inside. Angel closed his eyes briefly in frustration. He had known this would happen. Of course, it would have been much worse if he hadn't left out the part about D'argo and Aeryn being aliens. Angel shuddered at the thought.

"Fine," he said to Cordelia, "just open the doors." Angel, Wesley, John, and Aeryn pulled D'argo out of the car and with a lot of grunting and stopping, finally managed to get him in Angel's apartment. Cordelia dutifully opened all the doors.

 

* * *

 

"That's all we know," finished John. It was eleven thirty. Aeryn was in Angel's bedroom keeping an eye on D'argo and avoiding John's fellow earthlings. The terse introductions and hasty explanations that glossed over last names and the fact that D'argo and Aeryn were aliens, hadn't gone over too well. Wesley clearly wasn't sure what to make of two people bringing home a demon friend but Cordelia just eyed them with suspicion, and in John's case, appraisal, which hadn't done much for the comfort factor - especially since it had pissed Aeryn off. Angel finally picked up on it and sent Cordelia home, for which John was eternally grateful. Aeryn had escaped as soon as she could, leaving John to explain the case.

So now John was sitting at the kitchen table with Angel and Wesley drinking coffee. Honest to goodness, bitter, refreshing coffee. Man, had he missed coffee all those days in the Uncharteds when he had an early shift in command. He closed his eyes just enjoying the black heat that slid down his throat. He could live in this moment. So of course, Wesley chose that moment to ask him another question.

"Is there anything that might help us identify the Sebacean?"

"I don' know," John sighed. "Aeryn might know something, but we never saw him."

"We'll ask around for people who might have seen Jothee," said Angel. "That's probably the best trail to follow." Wesley nodded and started gathering up his notes, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Pardon me," he said for the yawn. "I really must be going," he added offering John his hand. "Nice meeting you, John." John firmly shook his hand. It felt really good shaking hands again. Beat pulse rifles in his face any day.

Angel stood too and glanced around his dark apartment. "You guys can crash here," he said to his guest. "I'm going to start looking for Jothee."

"Isn't it a little late?" asked John surprised.

"Not for me," said Angel, and with that he was gone.

Right, thought John. He had forgotten about that. He sighed and took his coffee to the couch. John was really tired. Moya time it was closer to early morning than the middle of the night. Thoughts tumbled around in his mind, not making much sense. He was on Earth, the real Earth, and it was like he was on another foreign planet. More weird creatures, more weird cities, more hiding. Would it ever end?

Soft footsteps came up behind him, then Aeryn came into view. She sat down next to him on the couch, their shoulders touching. As John tentatively put his arm around her, Aeryn relaxed slightly.

"How you doin', Sunshine?" he asked. Aeryn rolled her head towards him before answering.

"Well, we're on Earth, in hiding, a strange creature we barely know is helping us, and we've been in one fight today, against D'argo, no less. I'm doing fine."

John chuckled at her response--it seemed that his sarcasm was beginning to rub off on her. "Are you telling me this is just another ordinary day?" he asked grinning wickedly.

Aeryn pretended to think it over. "Well, not quite ordinary," she said grinning back. "Neither you, Chiana, nor Rygel caused the trouble were in." John laughed.

"OK, you want out of the ordinary? I'll show out of the ordinary tomorrow when I take you out on the town, babe," he told her.

"And how will you do that?" Aeryn asked her curiosity showing in her twinkling eyes.

"Because, for a change, I know tons more about this place than you do!"

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, out on the underside of town, Angel was checking out all the local demon haunts. He had been to about five so far with no success; none of the generally observant proprietors had seen anything.

It was about two when Angel stepped into a high class, gambling joint where well-to-do demons and their associates came to chat and throw away some money. Angel skirted the edge of the dimly lit casino toward the bar. He was in luck; Dixon was at the counter mixing drinks. Angel came up and stood next to a little bald man with red cheeks and patiently waited for the bartender to notice him. He glanced around his surroundings at the variety of pebbled and leathery skinned demons in all shades of green, blue, and gray, each impeccably dressed as they gambled and drank with their human associates on posh velvet chairs and mahogany tables.

Finally the little man walked away with his martini. "New to the joint," Dixon told him conversationally, nodding after the man. "Still a little nervous around horns and tails." He turned his attention back to Angel. "So what can I do ya for?"

"I'm looking for a kid, about fifteen, with long tentacles on his head. He's in custody of guy who doesn't speak English," said Angel.

"What's it worth?" asked Dixon slyly. He wasn't about to pass up a chance to make a profit.

"It's worth me not giving your boss the file I have on your… barside activities," Angel replied maliciously. Dixon gulped. He had forgotten Angel knew about that.

"OK, OK," he said hastily. "But not much has been happenin' around here for the last couple a' weeks."

"Dixon," said Angel, "you've got eyes in the back of your head, surely you've seen something. If not…" he trailed away suggestively.

"Let me think!" pleaded Dixon as he glanced nervously about the room for any potential eavesdroppers. "OK, about five hours ago I was in the storeroom, right? Mr. LeCuinda came in the back with two people. One had a sack over his head so I couldn't see him, right? But the other was a tall man…uh, black hair,… dark clothes, and a gun on his hip. LeCuinda said something to him and he answered in a language that definitely was not English or anything like any demon language I know, and I know a lot of them, at least what they sound like. I remember thinking it was kind of funny because most of the human types speak English, right? But workin' in this joint…" Dixon shook his head. "So that's what I know." Angel nodded and got off the stool.

"LeCuinda, what's he?" he asked.

"Um…I think he's a Langston demon," said Dixon after a moment.

Angel laid a twenty down on the counter. Dixon stared at it before pulling it towards himself. "So… uh… you're not going to give my boss that file, right?"

Angel smiled coldly. "Just keep giving me reasons not to and I never will."

 

* * *

 

Angel returned home after his chat with Dixon to find John and Aeryn fast asleep on the couch. Leaving them to dream, he checked on D'argo who was still out cold in the bedroom before settling down in the armchair in the livingroom area. He watched his two guests sleep for a minute, John's arm around Aeryn and her head on his chest, remembering a time when he had a certain vampire slayer in his arms like that. Now she was in that commando, Riley's arms. Angel sighed, thoroughly depressed at the thought and tried to close the door on the painful past. Thankfully, the stress of the day quickly pulled him into sleep.

A crash in the next room startled Angel into consciousness. He jumped up and found Aeryn and John already on their feet, Aeryn's gun raised in a defensive posture and John's hand on his empty holster. Another crash echoed from the bedroom and the Luxan's hulking form, still bound by cable, hopped through the doorway. He was an impressive sight with his long tentacles and braids flying about his tattooed head and Angel could tell he was really pissed off. He began shouting in a barking language. The human and sebacean both answered at the same time. Angel couldn't think straight with the noise of three shouted languages bouncing around the room. Then suddenly, they were all looking at him.

"Uhh…I'm…gonna go upstairs now," he said, not about to get involved in this fight when he couldn't even understand two of the belligerents. The Luxan was still tied up, Aeryn had her gun, and the only way out of the building that his guests new of was where Angel was going to be, so it seemed safe enough to leave them alone. And they were friends? thought Angel, shaking his head.

Wesley was pouring over one of the large demon tomes in Angel's office when he came upstairs. The lamp was on and the blinds were closed as usual lending the room a very somber, scholarly atmosphere.

"Good morning, Angel," said Wesley looking up from his book. "Are you alright this morning? You look a bit… off," he said.

Angel sighed and sat down at his desk. "The aliens are fighting downstairs. Woke me up from my four hours of sleep." He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "I don't know what to make of them, Wesley."

Wesley nodded in agreement. "Yes, I can certainly under- wait, did you say *aliens*?" Wesley's jaw dropped.

Angel nodded, groaning inwardly. Partly because of the confusion and the need to get D'Argo safely confined, and partly because, to be honest, Angel wasn't up to what he knew would be a lengthy discussion, he had sort of skipped the details in last nights hasty introductions - like the part about Aeryn and D'Argo being aliens. For that matter, the tormented vampire still didn't know John's last name-he'd never gotten around to asking.

"It seems you better fill me in," said Wesley testily, "before I waste another hour trying to find out the strengths and weaknesses of a Luxan demon."

So Angel told Wesley what he knew about their guests from outer space, from first contact to what Dixon had told him about the Langston demon. "And now they're fighting in my apartment and I can't understand a word they're saying," he finished.

"I might be able to remedy that," said Wesley jumping out of his chair and turning to the bookshelf behind him. He had taken the news rather well, which didn't really surprise Angel considering his job. The ex-Watcher found the book he was looking for and quickly began to leaf through the pages.

"What are you looking for?" asked Angel curiously leaning across his desk.

"There's a universal translation spell in here that might solve our communication problem. Ah here it is," he said. He ran his finger down the page stopping about halfway down. "You cast the spell on the being who doesn't speak the language, then whenever they speak, those around them understand what he's saying." Angel got up to look over Wesley's shoulder, then clapped him gently on the back.

"Good work. Now we’re making progress."

"Yes," agreed Wesley distractedly. He went into the other room and stood facing Cordelia's computer. He just stared at the thing for several minutes before he turned it on.

"Wesley?" asked Angel surprised. The man hated that thing. "What are you doing now?"

"There's something familiar about John and since he doesn't seemed inclined to tell us about himself, I thought I'd see if I could find out something," Wesley said clicking the mouse. "That is, if I can figure out how to use this thing." Angel shook his head again, heading toward the elevator.

As he left, Cordelia walked in. She stopped short at the door, nearly dropping her coffee, as soon as she saw Wesley at the computer. "Oh my God," she cried. "The world is going to end!"

 

* * *

 

About half an arn before the aspiring actress came into work, D'argo woke up in a strange room, with a pounding headache, and ropes tightly tied around his arms and feet. Worst of all, he remembered why he was here, on Earth. Jothee had been captured and brought here by a bounty hunter.

D'argo tried to stand up, but the cords and the effects of the blow to his pressure point affected his balance and he fell to the floor with a crash. Slowly, he pushed himself back to his feet, then awkwardly caught himself on the table by the bed, knocking something onto the floor as he started to sway again. Cursing under his breath and straining at his bonds, D'argo hopped through the open doorway. Aeryn and Crichton were in the next room, the sight of them filling D'argo with uncontrollable anger.

The rage instantly upon him, D'Argo's thoughts raced. His friends had betrayed him! They had conspired with that blue plant to keep him on the ship and away from his son! The had attacked him to keep him away andtrussed him up like a prisoner! The fierce warrior had sworn he would never be a prisoner again and now he swore that neither would his son!

"Where is he?!" D'argo yelled at his comrades.

Aeryn reholstered the pulse gun in her hand as both she and Crichton spoke. "We haven't found him yet." “We don’t know.”

"How could you do this to me?!" D'argo demanded hopping closer. The human and sebacean each took a step back to stay out of his tongue range. "You help me search for my son, then conspire against me like this!"

"Woah, Big Guy," sputtered Crichton. "We did not two-time you."

"We would never betray you," yelled Aeryn insulted. "After all that we've been through-"

"Then why am I bound as a prisoner," interrupted D'argo, still in the thrall of the hyper-rage, "and who the frell is that human behind you?" The two turned around to stare at the tall man in black who looked more than a little confused.

"Uhh…I'm…gonna go upstairs now," the man said shakily turning toward the stairs and leaving hastily.

"Um…that was Angel," said Crichton. He appeared to be about to explain further but D'argo didn't give him a chance.

"What the frell is he doing here?” he demanded harshly. “Have you sold us out already, Crighton?”

"D'argo, no. He's here to…" Crichton started.

"To dissect me as those other humans did Rygel?" he yelled furious at the very thought of being the object of some scientific inquiry.

"D'argo, just listen to us!" shouted the ex-Peace Keeper. "We had Zhaan sedate you-"

"So you could keep me from Jothee!" he bellowed. He tugged on his ropes some more and with a great roar managed to pop one of the cords around his arms. The others loosened a little bit but held fast as D'argo roared again in frustration. Rage surged through his blood, pounded in his brain.

"D'argo, shut the frell up and listen for once!" Crichton shouted.

"Untie me!" the Luxan demanded.

"No," yelled back Crichton. "This is the reason we had Zhaan sedate you in the first place. This is the reason we tied you up once you were down. We will not have you acting like the Tasmanian Devil until you get us all killed!"

"So you fear for your lives," said D'argo with an evil sneer. It pleased him that they were worried about what would happen, what was going to happen when the ropes were gone.

"Yes, and for yours," said Aeryn sharply. "We didn't want you down here because you stand out too much. You would easily be caught and slaughtered by a troop of soldiers. We are not going to let what happened on that fake earth happen again!"

"I don't need your protection, PeaceKeeper. I've seen what that's worth.," he snarled back. Aeryn stiffened, the blood draining from her face. D'argo knew deep inside that he had hurt her but his enraged self didn't care. How dare she say they were concerned for his safety. What about Jothee's safety? What were they doing for him?

"D'argo," snapped Crichton, taking a protective step in front of Aeryn, "believe it or not we do care about you. We knew you'd come down here pissed like this and start shooting and shouting in a language no one on this planet understands. You remember what my people can be like! You would have been out like a light faster than lightening. And what about Jothee? What kind of life will your son have if the only person he has left in the universe is dead?"

The tall Luxan had no reply. Rai G'arin, his old comrade, was the only other person Jothee had known as family, and he was dead. Could he bear not to see his son again before he died? So many cycles of not knowing what had happened, of not seeing him grow up. He had been a little boy, barley out of infancy, when Macton had ruined their lives. The stabbing pain of those cycles began washing away the blinding rage as the tears came to his eyes. He blinked furiously, trying to hide them from his shipmates.

"We value you too much as a friend to let anything happen to you or your son," continued Crichton. D'Argo, guilt and shame at his foolishness now overcoming his rage, knew that the human's words rang true. How many times had they risked their lives for each other and strangers in need?

"You should have at least asked me first," he finally said sullenly. His Luxan pride would not allow him to back down so easily.

"Would you have listened?" said John with a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

"Does he ever listen?" asked Aeryn wryly, as she approached the bound Luxan. She pulled a small knife from her boot.

"Aeryn," D'argo said, suddenly remembering his earlier words. "I'm sorry for what I said. I do trust you." Aeryn smiled broadly and the remaining tension flowed out of her body.

"Thank you," she said cutting the cable around his arms. "Now I don't have to kill you," and with that she flashed him a wicked grin.

Crichton laughed. "Finally! Someone else in her doghouse!" D'argo and Aeryn just looked at each other and shrugged. He was Crichton after all. Somehow that thought made D'argo feel better. Yes, he was Crichton, and he would help find Jothee no matter what the cost.

 

* * *

 

Upstairs in the office, Cordelia was at the computer with Wesley safely hovering behind her chair.

"So what are we looking for?" she asked, curious as to what would drive Wesley to a computer.

"John. His face looks familiar somehow, I just can't place it," he answered. "Try a newspaper place."

"That guy that came in with the ugly demon last night?" asked Cordelia typing in the newspaper website. That really hot guy who could use a brush? "He can't have been important because I've never heard of him. Of course, if I'd even seen him before I'd have remembered when, where, and what I was doing."

"Yes, and you'd know his income, phone number, and last name, which is what we are trying to find out," Wesley told her. The computer screen filled with the newspaper's homepage. Cordelia clicked to the archives.

"You have to know the basics about a guy before you get serious," Cordelia said over her shoulder, unconsciously shuddering. She remembered all too well waking up from her last one-night-stand pregnant with a demon. She felt Wesley's hand rub her shoulder reassuringly.

"Okay, when do you want?" she asked, silently grateful for Wesley's unspoken gesture.

"Ahh, try last year. Can you check headlines?" he asked. Cordelia nodded clicking here and there, then began scrolling down a list. When her head started to hurt five minutes later, she turned the computer over to Wesley.

"You can handle this," she told him getting up and reaching for her latte. "Where did Angel go?"

"Back downstairs, I think" Wesley said squinting at the computer. "The aliens were fighting earlier and he went down to check on them." Cordelia choked over her Styrofoam cup.

"The who?" she sputtered, eyes going wide. Wesley looked back at her and slowly grinned. He was enjoying this a bit too much for Cordelia's liking and she would definitely have to kill him for it later.

"Aeryn and D'argo," Wesley told her wisely turning back to the computer screen.

"That woman and the snaky guy?" asked the incredulous Cordelia. Aliens? She didn't know what to think about that. Demons were always bad, present boss excepted, and just about every movie from Hollywood depicted aliens as bad too - except for ET, but he was so adorable that he couldn't possibly be a kill-you, eat-you kind of guy. "What were they fighting about?" she asked nervously.

"We don't know. They don't speak English. Which reminds me, we have to set up a language spell after we finish here," said Wesley.

"Great! More sparks and explosions," said Cordelia, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Wesley, having had to deal with Cordelia's unique form of wit all too often, just ignored her.

"I think I've found it!" he suddenly shouted. "'Astronaut Lost on Experimental Mission. Commander John Robert Crichton, Jr, Doctor of Theoretical Sciences and Cosmic Theory, (Impressive! exclaimed Wesley, surprised,) was lost on yesterday's experimental space mission. Crichton and childhood friend, D.K. Moore, were testing their theory of atmospheric acceleration when a radiation wave hit the Farscape pod piloted by Crichton,'" read Wesley. "It goes on about the theory and the mission. No one was willing to comment on it. He has a father, Jack, in Florida, and …that's about all it says," Wesley said turning to Cordelia who was standing behind him.

She clicked on the photo button next to the text and a picture of John Crichton in his yellow IASA uniform popped up. His hair was neatly trimmed, his blue eyes sparkled, and he had a bright, excited smile on his face. There was something almost innocent about him, like a little boy flying a kite for the first time. The man she'd seen last night had been different, wilder, harder-as if he'd been through a war.

"What are theoretical sciences and cosmic theory?" she asked Wesley, still gazing at the picture, trying to reconcile the image of the man in the picture with the man she had seen last night.

"I'm not sure," he said taking back the mouse and clicking to the next article about the mission. "I think it has something to do with interstellar travel." He quickly scanned the article and shook his head. "None of these articles seemed to say anything more about what happened. IASA is keeping the lid closed on the investigation." He got up and went to the small refrigerator across the room and pulled out an apple. "Frustrating, these government types," he said taking a bite. He sighed and looked at the door to Angel's office. "I suppose I better get to work on that spell." He looked back at Cordelia. "Care to help me?"

"Uh, no!" she replied quickly, panic washing across her face. There was no way she was getting involved with magic, especially if Wesley was the one playing magician. "I think I'll go tell Angel what we found out."

 

* * *

 

John was scrambling some eggs when Angel came back downstairs. Aeryn and D'argo sat quietly at the table, each lost in their thoughts, as John quietly rambled on about the various ways one could cook an egg. He wasn't really listening to himself; he just felt the need to fill the heavy silence and to keep himself distracted. But his thoughts wouldn't stay put. They roamed to the east coast and pulled forward memories of odd Saturday mornings when he and his dad would get up before dawn, cook up some eggs at his dad's house, then take a walk on the beach and just talk about everything, from philosophy to women to space. He really missed those heart-to-hearts, and now he was so close, yet…it would never be the same.

John sighed and took the eggs off the stove. "Hey, Angel," he greeted the vampire leaning against the wall. "You know, you don't have that much food in the fridge and the blood in there is really disgusting. I feel like I've moved into Frankenstein's castle." Aeryn and D'argo gave each other the "what's-he-talking-about-now-look" as he shoveled eggs onto their plates.

Angel just smiled and joined them at the table. "That's one way of looking at it," he said. John's face broke into a large grin.

"Man, it feels good to be understood!" he told everyone holding up his arms, careful not to tip the frying pan. "Honey, I am home!" Well, almost, he amended in his thoughts.

"Does he do this often?" Angel asked Aeryn giving John a worried look. Both Aeryn and D'argo nodded emphatically.

"You have no idea," Aeryn told him with an amused smile, again forgetting he couldn't understand.

"Sometimes singing," added D'argo who glared up disapprovingly at John's all too human behavior. The erring human just grinned even wider, remembering his "medieval hero armor" for his battle with T'raltixx.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to me," he told Angel forking some eggs onto his own plate. "If they can put up with me, anyone can. You should hear them try and use human slang," he added glancing at his friends.

Angel shook his head, confused. "What do you mean?" he asked curiously.

"Well, you know the difference between the willies and a woody, right?" John answered with a devilish twinkle in his eye, as he slyly glanced over at Aeryn who just glared daggers back at him. Angel chuckled and a genuine smile transformed his face. John got the feeling he didn't smile that often.

"So what's up?" he asked digging into his eggs.

Angel told them about the language spell and what he had found out from Dixon. The three were apprehensive about the first and very worried about the second.

"When you say spell, you mean magic?" asked John, voicing the concerns he and his shipmates felt. Their record with magic was shaky and their resident, butt-saving priest was still on Moya.

"It a pretty simple spell," said Angel reassuringly. "It won't hurt you in anyway."

"Are you sure there's no other way?" asked Aeryn through John.

"Yeah, but don't worry, Wesley knows what he's doing," Angel replied with confidence.

"Okay," sighed John. They didn't really have a choice, Aeryn and D'argo had to be able to communicate. "Now, what about the Langston thing?" he asked.

Angel took a deep breath, then said, "Wesley's looking up some stuff for me now, and later today, I'm going to look around a little more, see if I can find out where his lair is."

A quick glance at D'argo told John that his Luxan impatience was rising once again. His clenched fists combined with his constant staring at the table warned John that he was barely containing himself from bursting out of the apartment.

"What can we do?" John asked.

"Nothing, I work alone, that way no one gets hurt," Angel answered glancing at each of them with his soulful eyes. He, too, had been through too much, John realized, seen far more than any being should.

Suddenly D'argo, unable to contain himself any longer, exploded across the table and grabbed Angel by the throat. "If you think I will sit by while my son is held prisoner, think again!!" he screamed at the very surprised vampire.

"He's going with you," John translated, watching D'argo carefully. Angel shook off his surprise and gazed into D'argo's angry eyes, then nodded. Seeing that he had made his point, the Luxan slowly let go and retrieved his chair. Still smoldering, he sat quietly and finished his eggs.

Now that D'argo was in control of himself, John turned his attention back to Angel. "Can I use your phone, long distance?" he asked tentatively. Please, please, please, his anxious thoughts chanted.

"Who're you gonna call?" Angel asked not moving from his seat.

"My dad," John answered. Aeryn's head snapped up from her meal, her eyes searching his. John gazed back. He'd never thought he would really be able to talk to his dad again, especially after the false earth when all his hopes had come crashing down on him. Now the very real possibility hit him like a brick wall. All the rehearsed conversations he'd had on Moya flew out of his brain, leaving only worries. What would he say? What would his dad think? John swallowed the frog in his throat and tucked those burning questions into the back of his mind as Angel nodded and rose to lead him to the cordless phone.

Alone in Angel's bedroom, John stared at the receiver before dialing his dad's number in Florida. Part of his mind still couldn't believe he was doing this - hell, part of his mind couldn't believe he was on Earth! The phone rang three times before his dad answered.

"Hello?" said a tired voice that most definitely belonged to Jack Crichton. John let out a held breath of relief. His dad, his wonderful, magnificent dad, was on the phone.

"Hi…dad, it's me, John," he said nervously. There was silence on the other end.

"Who are you?" his dad asked shakily. John's heart skipped a beat.

"Dad, it's your son, John!" he said frantically, willing his father to believe.

"What kind of sick joke is this?" demanded his father, clearly angry now. John couldn't believe his ears. This wasn't supposed to be like this! His father was supposed to know and be happy!

"Dad," he said desperately, "it's me, I went through a wormhole! I can prove-"

"My son is dead!!" and the line cut off. Stunned, John dialed again. The phone rang nine times before his father picked up again.

"Please-" was all John managed before the dial tone reached his ear. "Dad!!" Desperately he dialed DK's number.

"Hello?"

"DK?" asked John, very nervously.

"Yeah? Who's this?" his friend asked.

"DK, don't hang up! It's John…John Crichton." He held his breath. Would DK listen? The silence seemed to last forever.

"John Crichton is dead," DK finally answered. John's heart stopped completely.

"Wait, DK, it's really me," John spluttered, "I've known you since kindergarten! We did our second grade science project on volcanoes together! In tenth grade we got suspended for blowing out a window in the chemistry lab!"

"Look, I don’t know who you are, but John Crichton is dead!" DK shouted. John thought he heard tears in his voice. "He died over a year ago in space! Don't call back!" and the phone was slammed down.

John's mind reeled in shock. They hadn't believed that it was him. In their minds he was dead, no longer living, finitoed. Would I believe I was alive either? he asked himself, unable to answer. He was dead to them, gone forever in the emptiness of space. The displaced human sat down hard on the bed, head falling into his hands.

 

* * *

 

A few minutes later, Aeryn, worried when John didn't come back to finish his breakfast, found him alone in Angel's room with his head in his hands. Shudders racked his body, and Aeryn's brain slowly registered the fact that he was silently crying. What had happened? she wondered urgently as she walked toward him. Her heart went out to his tortured soul as she tentatively placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He calmed under her gentle touch.

"Hey," she said quietly, using what had by now become their private code, patiently waiting for him to speak. For a long while he didn't move.

"They think I'm dead," he finally said lifting his head and meeting her gaze. Aeryn saw deep pain in his red and tear filled eyes. She didn't know what to say. What could she say that would help?

"When I tried to explain, they just hung up," he continued. "God, Aeryn, I'm on the freaking Earth and I can't even talk to the two people who mean the most to me!" John stood up and started pacing about the room.

"What would you say to them?" she asked, just letting him talk it out. She hadn't seen him this distressed since Gillina's death and it worried her.

"Oh, I don't know," he sighed rubbing his neck. "Nothing that isn't already on the tapes." Suddenly he stopped pacing. "The tapes!" he cried in anguish. "I left them on my bed in my quarters!"

Those tapes, Aeryn knew, were John's link to his past; he told his father everything on those tapes. Now it was his only way of telling his father that he was alive. A part of Aeryn wished that she had the same opportunity to tell her parents what had happened to her in her life.

"I can go back to Moya and get them," she heard herself offering. John's eyes lit up in hope.

"I'll go," he started, but Aeryn cut him off. Why did he always have to argue? she thought, frustrated. Why wouldn't he let her help him the way he was always helping her?

"No, I'll go. You are in no condition to fly right now," she told him, her face and eyes signaling to John that as far as she was concerned, the issue was settled. Besides, she thought, it will give me something to do other than sitting around here feeling useless.

 

* * *

 

On Moya, Chiana was restlessly roaming the halls. The giant ship felt empty with half her crew gone and so did Chiana. Gliding toward quarters, she realized that she was actually worried about her absent shipmates. Their encounter with the false earth had been far from pleasant and Chiana didn't want a repeat on the real one. Things had changed in the time she had been aboard. She had changed, she thought coming to a halt in front of D'argo's room. Memories of all the times that John and D'argo, and even Aeryn, had come through for her floated around in her mind.

And what was Earth like anyway? she wondered, moving on and pausing at John's room. What mysteries did it hold? Her eyes fell on the tapes that John had left on his bed, his - what did he call them?- message in a bottle.

Chiana opened the door and picked up a couple of the tapes. The strange ciphers on the sides made no sense to her; they were as mysterious as John's earth. He would want these, she thought, suddenly coming to a decision.

Quickly, Chiana gathered the tapes into the waiting bag and ran out the door toward the pod bay. She was almost there when, Rygel rounded a corner and bowled into her, knocking her to the floor.

"Where the yotz are you going in such a hurry?" Rygel demanded testily while Chiana stuffed the spilled tapes back into the bag.

"Earth," she said, grinning at the stunned dominar before running on through the halls.

 

* * *

 

Back in Angel's room, Pilot's voice suddenly burst over John and Aeryn's comms.

"Aeryn Sun, Chiana is on her way down to the planet," he said urgently.

"WHAT?!" both she and John shouted at the news. Why that good-for-nothing, lying, little thief! Aeryn thought, furious with the young Nebari. Chiana planetside meant trouble; in fact, Chiana anywhere meant trouble!

"Why is she coming down here?" she demanded.

"She said Crichton had forgotten something," Pilot told them. "Whatever that means," he added softly. Aeryn knew exactly what it meant - the tapes.

"Pilot, where's she landing?" asked John.

"She is heading for the same place you and D'argo landed," he replied. The dump again, Aeryn sighed. She was beginning to really hate that place.

"Thank you, Pilot," she said signing off. She glanced over at John next to her. He gave her a tired, wry smile and said, "Here we go again."

 

* * *

 

John craned his neck to peer down yet another alley as they slowly drove away from the dump. Chiana had all but crashed the second transport pod and by the time he, Aeryn and Wesley had arrived, she'd gone. Where she'd gone was another matter. John swore another oath as they continued their search of the decidedly seedy neighborhood. Rundown apartment buildings with rusted stairs and laundry flying out the windows and empty offices with faded signs still over the doors and blown out windows walled in rubbish strewn alleys and bumpy streets. Few people were about, for which John was very grateful. Those that worked had left for their nine o'clock jobs; those that didn't were still sleeping.

John hoped like hell that they would find Chiana before the police did, then he would wring her neck - only if Aeryn didn't beat him to it, of course, he thought glancing at the stone faced Sebacean next to him. She was more pissed than a disturbed rattler before a meal.

Wesley slowed the car to a stop. "What's going on there?" he asked pointing to the next alley where a street gang had something cornered. John motioned for Wesley to turn off the engine and listened closely. The snippets of conversation he heard were more than enough to convince him that his favorite little thief was down that alley.

With a glance at Aeryn, the two jumped out of the convertible and quietly came up behind the gang. Eight young toughs, no older than twenty, blocked the mouth of the alley. They were in an arc that was slowly closing around Chiana who was trying to stall for time. Her eyes only flickered away from her attackers once when she saw John and Aeryn silently approach.

"Didn't yo momma tell you never go anywhere alone?" one of the kids mockingly asked. He was a few feet to the right of Chiana and had a gun stuffed in his belt.

"Wha's a pretty pale thing like you doin' over here?" asked another kid just in front of Aeryn. Chiana tilted her head and slowly smiled. "Kicking the dren out of you," John heard her say.

Right on cue, John and Aeryn attacked.

John spun the nearest aspiring gangster around and punched him in the nose knocking him down and out. By his side Aeryn dropped another with graceful ease. The remaining six finally woke up and started to fight back. John deflected a jab to his head and lashed out with a kick that Aeryn had taught him, sending another boy to the ground, while Aeryn easily dispatched another two with lightning speed. A third kid came up behind her, pummeling her with his fists. John roughly pulled him off and held him for Aeryn's Pantak jab, which took him out. Meanwhile Chiana had swiped another to the ground and kicked him where it counts, leaving him groaning on the ground. The final gang member ran for it, only to be hit in the head with the flat of Wesley's battleaxe.

"Well, that was exciting," said a slightly stunned Wesley. John nodded surveying the unconscious and groaning bodies on the ground around him with satisfaction. It was then that he noticed that Aeryn had Chiana by the throat.

"If you ever do that again...," Aeryn shouted in the Nebari's face. Chiana had a look of pure terror on her face as she gasped for breath.

John sighed. As much as he wanted her to, he couldn't let Aeryn kill Chiana. "Come on Aeryn," he said walking over and pulling her off from behind. Reluctantly, the ex-PeaceKeeper released her grip and stormed out of the alley past a completely confused Wesley.

"Thanks," said Chiana, smiling up at him. John didn't return the smile.

"Let's go, Pip," he said turning and walking away. So he had to save her life, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

 

* * *

 

Down in Angel's apartment, Aeryn, D'argo, Chiana, and Wesley sat in a circle behind the couch around a candle and a wooden bowl of what Cordelia dubbed, talking paste. The room was dark except for the candle, which threw shadows into the corners and gave everyone a ghostly appearance. Angel had all but vanished from his perch on the stairs.

Wesley started to chant in Arkanian, beginning the translation spell. "Parmir soldat, bavare inec, parmir soldat, bavare inec…" Slowly, he took the bowl of paste and painted it onto the lips and throats of the three aliens before him. To their credit, they didn't flinch away or even bite, as Angel had thought they might. Wesley continued to chant and, little by little, the paste started to disappear. He continued the incantation after it was all gone, getting softer and softer till there was only silence.

Softly, he blew out the candle and Cordelia switched on the lights. The three aliens looked a little bewildered by the whole ordeal.

"Did it work?" Aeryn asked, speaking to no one in particular. Angel was a little surprised. She had a beautiful voice, and while he had known they would be able to communicate, he hadn't expected the translation to be so flawless.

"Yes," Wesley answered staring at Aeryn in wonder. Suddenly coming back to himself, Wesley shook his head embarrassed and gathered up the candle and the bowl and took them to the very messy kitchen. "Cordelia, would you help me clean up?" he asked as he passed her and John knelling over the back of the couch.

"Do I have to?" she wailed. "After all, it's not like I made the mess!" Angel saw Aeryn roll her eyes at Cordy's whining. Ever since they had come back with Chiana half an hour ago, Cordelia seemed to annoy Aeryn simply by being her charming and extremely talkative self.

"I'll help," said John unexpectedly, pulling Angel back to the present. Wesley and Cordelia both stared at him as if asparagus had just sprouted from his ears. "What?" he asked them. "I'm no Betty Crocker but I do know how to do dishes," and with that, he sauntered into the kitchen followed by Wes and Aeryn. Angel smiled at the thought of John, in his black and red leather, wild hair, and tough guy attitude in a blue striped apron scrubbing dishes while his two assistants scurried around him like Keebler Elves.

"Wow!" breathed Chiana, pulling his attention back to the two other aliens rising from the floor. "Zhaan would love that! It was amazing!"

"What it was was unnerving!" muttered D'argo. As he spoke, Angel's whole perception of the Luxan shifted. While Angel still didn't trust him, he didn't seem as dangerous. His voice was deep and soft, nothing like the harsh, echoing sounds of his native tongue that had made him so threatening before.

D'argo shook his head and brusquely turned toward Angel "Let's go," he said without preamble. The vampire nodded, recalling his agreement to take D'argo along on the search for the Langston's lair. He really didn't want to, he worked better alone, but he knew that if he didn't let D'argo come, the Luxan would go on his own. The thought of an angry, lost, warrior alien on the streets of LA did not sit well with Angel. At least he'd be able to keep an eye on him this way.

He walked over to the weapons cabinet and unlocked it. Inside was the familiar clutter of axes, knives, stakes, and swords of various shapes and sizes. As he chose a small ax and a stake, Angel sensed D'argo behind him.

"Formidable weapons," he said clearly admiring the array. He reached past Angel and gently lifted a bastard sword out of the cabinet. After hefting it and testing it's sharpness he said, "and in good condition." Angel met D'argo's eyes over the blade and realized that the alien's estimation of him had gone up, too.

"Thank you," he answered. Angel locked the cabinet and went into his room to get a cloak for D'argo. If he were going above ground he would definitely need it, he thought returning to the living room and opening the sewer entrance.

"Would you like-" started Wesley from the kitchen as the two, cloaked and armed, stepped out of the apartment into the sewer.

"No, Wesley. I don't want you coming with us. We'll be back later," Angel replied glancing around his crowded home one last time before disappearing into the dark.

 

* * *

 

"This is a nice place," Chiana commented, turning around to take in her surroundings. It was darkish with lots of pretty things that any enterprising girl would want. "You live here?" she asked sliding over to where Cordelia was watching her from the couch.

"What? No!" the dark-haired human girl exclaimed. "This place is way too dark and dungeony for me, though it suits Angel perfectly." Chiana looked around the beautiful room again, not seeing anything prison-like about it. It was comfortable, lived in, but somber and filled with shadows. She could see what Cordelia meant when she said it was perfect for the tall, silent, man in black.

"So what's the deal with those two?" asked Cordelia lowering her voice a little as she pointed to Chiana's crewmates in the kitchen. "They together?" Chiana smirked before answering.

"Oh they are definitely together," she replied. "They haven't really admitted it yet, but they're in love," she told the human, joining her on the couch.

"How can he stand her?" Cordelia asked inspecting Aeryn from afar. "She's as cold as ice and has absolutely no taste in clothes. If you ask me, he doesn't deserve her."

"Jealous?" asked Chiana, smiling innocently. Aeryn wasn't one of her favorite people but Crichton certainly was. Anyone else who felt the same must be alright she reasoned, really starting to like Cordelia.

"Come on, no one can ignore a bod that hot, even if he is a little old," Cordy told her matter of factly. "Don't tell me you've never tried to catch him." Chiana giggled and smiled slyly, remembering her first couple weeks on Moya.

"Well, yeah, in the beginning, but he didn't trust me and was by that time way to far gone with Aeryn. He'll do anything for her," Chiana stopped, unwilling to dive into painful memories of how much John was willing to suffer to keep those he loved safe. The pair watched Crichton's back washing dishes for a couple microns in silence, sharing the moment.

"I was in love with him for a while because he stood up for me and gave me a chance," Chiana finally said. "Now it's different. Now he's more like a big brother."

Cordelia nodded. "Angel's like that," she said. "Always checking over my shoulder, keeping me safe from all the big, bad demons that hit on me. Not that I mind when it gets nasty, but it's really embarrassing when he and Wesley check out my perfectly unevil dates."

Chiana grinned knowingly. "At least you only have two people watching you; I have four!"

"John, Aeryn . . ." Cordelia left it hanging.

"D'argo and Zhaan," Chiana finished. "Mostly I do what I want, but I'm always the first one blamed when things go wrong."

"Aren't we always," answered Cordelia. They glanced at each other then erupted in giggles. Chiana cherished the sound of their shared laughter. It felt so wonderful to have someone her own age to talk to who really understood some of the things in her crazy, dangerous existence.

"So who's this Zhaan?" asked Cordelia when they had regained control of themselves.

"She's the Delvian priestess who mothers all of us all the time," Chiana told her, rolling her eyes. "She's really powerful though," she added, "and you definitely don't want to make her mad."

"It's better to avoid Angel's bad side too," Cordy replied.

"Why's he so sad all the time?" Chiana asked curiously. The man had barely spoken while she'd been there and his face had been dark and worried.

Cordelia sighed before answering. "He's got a soul," she said as if that explained it. Chiana tilted her head wondering what in the universe was a soul; there was no translation in Nebari. Cordelia explained when she realized that Chiana had no clue as to what she was talking about. "Vampires don't have souls, so now he remembers every evil thing he ever did as a vampire and has to help the hopeless to make things right again."

The explanation sent a chill down Chiana's back. A soul was a device that brought back bad memories? She quickly glanced at John in the kitchen. It sounded as bad as the Aurora Chair.

"So what's this soul thing look like?" she asked.

"What?" the Cordelia said surprised. "You don't know what a soul is?" she asked with a slight smile on her lips. Puzzled by her reaction, Chiana shook her head no.

"OK, a soul," said Cordelia. Her eyes shifted back and forth as she thought. "A soul is…well…" she paused, her face scrunched up looking for the right words. "It's part of you that…tells you what's right and wrong and makes you feel bad about the wrong stuff you do." Cordelia paused not satisfied with her answer. "Look, it doesn't matter. Basically, it keeps Angel from killing us like he would if he didn't have one."

Chiana smiled partly in relief, partly at the funny expressions Cordelia made when she spoke. Nothing to hurt them here.

"Can I ask you something?" said Cordelia suddenly changing subject. "Where did you get your clothes?" she asked, eyeing Chiana's blue-gray outfit. Chiana looked herself over trying to remember where she was when she had liberated these clothes from an outdoor market. It had been well before Salis caught her.

"I don't remember."

Cordelia shook her head in mock despair. "Girl, we are going shopping."

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen area Wesley, John, and Aeryn cleaned up the mess made from the breakfast dishes and the spell paste. Wesley was still surprised that John had offered to help and then Aeryn had come too. The pair of them were definitely not the domestic types. Wesley had been very impressed with their fighting skills in the alley and was actually a little in awe of them.

They were skilled warriors like Angel, roughing up those who dared to harm the helpless. Fighting against injustice and evil so that the world would be a better place. A man and a woman, the perfect team, the perfect couple, always ready with a kind word and supporting hand for the innocent…

"I can't stand that girl!" snapped Aeryn. "She's worse than you and Chiana put together!" she told John. Wesley sighed - so much for his illusions. "Did you hear her earlier?" Aeryn turning to Wesley in a sharp, too controlled manner as John started filling the sink with water. "She never shuts the frell up!"

"Aeryn, calm down," John told her squirting soap into the water. "She's just talkative."

"John, you're talkative, and compared to her you're silent," fumed Aeryn.

"Now there's a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one," John told Wesley over his shoulder. The ex-Watcher smiled shyly as he stacked up the dirty dishes, not wanting to intrude upon the conversation.

"And the two of them together make me nervous," continued Aeryn, ignoring John's comment.

"Yeah, I'm with you there," answered John, glancing at the chatting girls over his shoulder. Following his gaze, Wesley wondered what Chiana was like to elicit such a response. She didn't seem to be dangerous at all, just young and curious. And pretty, he added. Wesley shook his head, banishing the thought. With his luck he'd fall flat on his face as he was greeting her. Even if he did get a sentence out without sounding like an idiot, she'd still be leaving eventually and he would never see her again.

Cordelia caught him staring and waved causing Wesley to quickly turn his blushing face away from his beautiful coworker. He didn't want to think about his flighty friend right now. Now they have something, he thought as he watched John and Aeryn wash and dry the dishes in perfect harmony. Wesley idly wondered if he was ever going to find the right woman.

"So, Dr. Crichton," he ventured trying to distract himself from the unpleasant topic of the opposite sex, "you earned a PhD and became an astronaut?" John's head snapped up from the frying pan he was scrubbing.

"Whoa! Where'd you find that out?" he asked searching Wesley's face cautiously.

"The Internet," was the hasty reply. John's face cracked into a crooked grin.

"Find anything there, can't you?" he smiled. "Yeah, I spent about five years working on my thesis at MIT with DK. I flew my first shuttle mission a few years after that." The smile faded as John went on a trip down memory lane.

"Remarkable!" breathed Wesley, amazed. After reading the article, Wesley had been hesitant to believe it, but hearing it from the horse's mouth so to speak, made it real. The work it must have taken to make it into the prestigious astronaut program.

"What's a P.H.D.?" asked Aeryn with a perplexed expression on her face.

John leered at her as he answered, "it means I'm really smart!" Aeryn gave him a look of disgust.

"Can't mean much then, can it?" she said dryly. Wesley saw a flicker of something cross John's face when she said that, but instead of saying anything, John just winked at them and handed Aeryn the dripping frying pan. Terrific, Wesley thought himself, he'd done it again, time to change the subject.

"I wonder how Angel and your friend are doing on their search," he tried hoping to ease the uncomfortable silence that had settled over them.

"Angel looks capable enough," shrugged John, trying and failing to appear nonchalant. Aeryn gave Wesley the frying pan to put up with concern etched in her features. "And D'argo knows what he's doing," continued John. "I hope."

"As long as he doesn't get angry, they'll be all right," added Aeryn. The two looked at each other. Wesley could see that they felt as helpless as he did, probably even imagining the same horrors he was at the inevitable clash between the alien and the creatures that walked the Earth.

 

* * *

 

The assaulting stench of rot and rubbish almost overpowered D'argo's nose when he stepped through the grate into the sewer system after Angel. The tunnels were large and relatively dry but the stench was amazing. The tall vampire confidently led the way through the maze of tunnels beneath the city streets. Neither warrior spoke a word into the darkness, which suited D'argo. He didn't entirely trust the being before him in the long, black coat. He was a stranger that he was forced to follow to find his son and he was not comfortable with that thought.

"Where are we going?" he asked suddenly, not wishing to be led into a trap. Angel paused and looked over his shoulder at him

"Were going to see if we can find the Langston's lair," he answered continuing onward. "From what Wesley found out, they like quiet, open spaces but that means nothing in LA. So we're going to see somebody who usually keeps tabs on the richer demons in town."

D'argo grunted a response. It sounded reasonable. Before he could ponder the question any longer, Angel started to climb a ladder up into shadows above. With a last check to make sure the cloak was in place, D'argo followed.

They emerged into an ally that smelled as bad or worse than the sewers below.

"How do you stand the smell?!" D'argo exclaimed scrunching his face in disgust.

The vampire smiled, slightly surprised. "Just do," he replied. Angel had turned toward a side door on the left-hand building, when D'argo heard a voice behind him.

"Gimme your jewels and yo' wallet and you wont get hurt!" D'argo turned around to face his attacker. He was a smallish man, dirty, with a cloth tied onto his head. In his hand was a projectile weapon, much like a pulse gun, aimed at D'argo's middle. To the Luxan's experienced eye, he was no more than a street thug, inexperienced in real fighting. Without a second thought, D'argo zapped out his tongue and the mugger crumpled to the ground.

"What was that?" asked Angel who had watched the whole ten microt exchange.

"Nothing" said D'argo joining him at the door. Angel gave him a thoughtful look before opening the door and the Luxan returned it, stare for stare. There was much that the vampire did not know about him and D'argo intended for it to stay that way as they continued their hunt for his son.

 

* * *

 

His head hurt. The rest of his body ached but there was a star going supernova in Jothee's head as he slowly regained consciousness. After cracking his eyes open, he quickly decided that seeing wasn't worth the shooting stars that burned into his brain. It didn't matter anyway since he had already memorized the details of his prison. He was in a small room with a wooden floor and no windows, chained to the bed in the far corner. The only other furniture were two chairs in the center of the room - one of plain wood and one of iron, bolted to the floor.

Just thinking about the chair sent shivers of terror racing through Jothee's thin frame. Everyday since they had come to this place, the sebacean bounty hunter, Jeseri Kyff, had chained him to that chair and forced him to watch and listen to the 'truth about his heritage'. Kyff had begun with his parents, telling of his mother, Lolaan's abduction and rape by his father Ka D'argo. The result had been him, a mongrel to be sold, when he was large enough to attract a sizable offer, to a certain scientist notorious for his extensive and often fatal research on interspecies breeding. Then Kyff showed him how the PeaceKeepers had found his mother murdered, tortured at the hands of her supposed husband.

Jothee squeezed his eyes shut as the memory of the holovid image of his mother's cut and bleeding body surfaced in his mind. From what he remembered of his parents and from what Rai G'arin had told him, Jothee could not believe that his father had killed her. But what if he had? What if Kyff was right? He had the records from not just the PeaceKeepers but the local authorities as well. Who else would kill a civilian sebacean woman? Kyff's question echoed through the boy's pounding head.

Jothee didn't know anymore. After days of hearing of his father's and Rai G'arin's crimes, of seeing the holovids of people he had grown up with killed because of his presence in their lives, all Jothee wanted was to crawl into a hole in the ground and just float into oblivion, but the pain wouldn't go away. Every time he had tried to turn away, to say it wasn't so, they injected him with a serum that burned in his blood and set off explosions in his head that amplified every word Kyff said and every image Kyff showed, so that there was no relief, no escape from the barrage.

Just stop, the young Luxan cried out in his tortured thoughts as more images of mutilated friends surfaced in his mind. Rolling over and burying his aching head in his pillow, Jothee muffled his sobs from his captors in the next room.

 

* * *

 

Having been talked into joining the two young women on their shopping trip, Wesley found himself walking down the sidewalk of an outdoor shopping center carrying two bags of clothes. Why he had ever agreed to come was beyond him. Back at Angel's place, John and Aeryn had decided to come so that John could mail some things to his father and so the two of them could keep an eye on Chiana who had threatened to sneak out with Cordelia no matter what – something Wesley did not find reassuring at all. The former Watcher hated shopping, especially with Cordelia who had a habit of dropping her purchases in his arms and rushing off to the next garment that caught her fancy. Being the good friend and gentleman that he was though, Wesley never left them on the sidewalk – no matter how great the temptation.

He sighed, resigned to be Cordelia's porter and trailed behind the others into the next strange shop. This one had black walls and some very weird clothing made of fake leather and polyester in colors like electric purple and razor orange. Chains, nose and bellybutton rings, and other paraphernalia one associated with Hells Angels were everywhere. A heavily made up and disguised Chiana in one of Cordelia's spare shirts she always had at Angel's, was giggling with his esteemed colleague over yet another rack of tank-tops. The two had taken quite a shine to each other, he noted, once again marveling at the universal traits of young females.

He couldn't help but shake his head and flash a wry grin at his fellow male, John, who just shrugged his shoulders, as both men noted that the twosome were not looking at the shirts, but instead were concentrating on the young man with his back to them on the other side of the rack. Wesley sighed again, slightly relieved that they hadn't come in here for the merchandise. If they had, well, he didn't want to think about what that might mean, it was too frightening. He looked around to see what John Crichton and Aeryn were doing, suddenly wishing they hadn't left their weapons in Angel's apartment. Unlike Chiana and Cordelia, neither one had bought anything on this outing. John seemed content to show off the wonders of the world to Aeryn as if they were on a field trip, which Wesley supposed they were. They kept stopping to talk and bicker about various things such as movies and ice cream - Wesley hadn't been able to follow that conversation at all. Right now, they were discussing body piercing.

"Why would someone purposely poke holes in their body?" asked Aeryn fiddling with a belly chain.

"Got me there," replied John. "I guess they think it's cool." Aeryn snorted.

"So next time the environmentals get out of control I should simply cut a hole in my nose," she joked.

John laughed good-naturedly at Aeryn's misunderstanding of human slang. "Aeryn Sun, biker woman extrodinaire!" he exclaimed. Wesley smiled at the crack. Aeryn certainly did look like a biker chic with all that leather, he thought. "You do realize," John continued playfully, "that I would not be able to see you ever again if you did that."

"Oh, and why is that?" asked Aeryn smiling.

"Because no self respecting gentleman would ever associate with that kind of riffraff," he answered standing up straight and looking down his nose at her.

"Good thing you aren't a self respecting gentleman then, isn't it?" she coolly replied, drawing another smile from her companion. Wesley sighed envying the obvious closeness between them.

Just then a woman stumbled into Wesley interrupting his thoughts and eavesdropping, sending Cordy's bags flying to the floor. She was tall and blond, wearing jeans and a red sleeveless shirt. On the whole, Wes found her quite attractive.

"Oh, excuse me!" she said as Wesley helped her regain her balance.

"No, not…not at all," he stuttered in reply. She was very beautiful and he desperately didn't want to come off as he normally did.

"Here, let me help you with your bags," she said stooping to help him. Wesley smiled a thanks as they picked up the bags and put everything back in order. "So," the woman said, "do you come here often?" She was asking him a question, he thought, starting to panic. What should he say that would keep her here talking? he wondered frantically, yes or no. As he agonized over what to say, the woman waited patiently and started to play with her tongue ring.

"No, I'm here with a friend," said Wesley deflated. Just his luck: a beautiful woman had tumbled into his arms flirting, and she had a tongue ring. Maybe it could work, he mused knowing that it would never happen. The very idea of a steel post through anywhere, much less the tongue, gave him the shivers.

As the woman left, the rogue demon hunter dejectedly wandered over to where John and Aeryn were now arguing over the design of a T-shirt.

"Why would they have a picture of something that doesn't exist?" Aeryn was saying.

"Because it looks neat! I don't know," said John, clearly exasperated.

"So you lie to your people about what's real and what's not?" pressed Aeryn, clearly not comprehending.

"No, everyone knows that it's not real, that it's made up. Look, Aeryn, it's for entertainment," John tried again.

"But what if someone didn't know it was not real," Aeryn asked. Wesley could tell that the subject bothered her for some unknown reason, but he couldn't fathom why.

"Aeryn," wailed John. "Then they're stupid! This is not something we covered in Philosophy 101!" John noticed Wesley watching them with sad amusement then. "She is impossible!" he told him, throwing up his hands. Before Wesley could say anything, he saw a flicker of recognition in John's eyes as the astronaut saw something over the shoulder of the Englishman. Turning quickly to see what had attracted John's attention, Wesley only saw more racks of clothes.

"Let's just get out of here," snapped Aeryn not noticing the men's distraction.

"Right," said John coming back to himself. "You go find Chiana," he told her. Aeryn was about to protest but John had already left them, heading for whatever he had seen behind Wesley.

 

* * *

 

Crichton's culture was so frustrating! fumed Aeryn as she crossed the store to Chiana, her mood steadily going from bad to worse. It was based completely on _entertainment_, a completely useless facet of any society. It did have its uses, she conceded, but here it was everywhere.

Aeryn quickly quelled the pang of jealousy that surged through her. She wished for one microt that she could have lived in a place where people cared about having fun, making people happy. She wished that she could have experienced the 'escape' that John described when he had told her about movies he'd seen and music he'd listened to growing up. In Aeryn's youth as a PeaceKeeper there was no 'escape'. She trained, she fought, she killed, she obeyed orders. The music she listened to was martial, the stories - tales of legendary captains, like Durka, who won great victories, the holovids-propaganda expounding on the superiority of sebaceans in general and Peacekeepers in particular. Entertainment - like relationships, like love, was a meaningless concept.

But why would she want to be lied to? she raionalized. There seemed to be nothing that was solidly real on this planet. The advertisements, Crichton had said, twisted the truth to present merchandise in the best way. Half the clothes bore pictures of things that didn't even exist! False newsprint, real newsprint, where did they draw the line? she asked herself. No wonder Crichton was so bizarre, his planet was more frelled than he was.

She reached the clothes rack where Chiana and the human girl were talking with another young human male. "We're leaving," she brusquely informed them, still fed up with human culture. She glanced over Chiana briefly, still amazed by the change in her appearance and was forced to admit that the human girl had done a very good job disguising her - Chiana's white hair and human colored skin looked very odd, but fitting in this shop.

"We're not ready yet," said Cordelia in reply to Aeryn's announcement. She turned back to the young man. "Just ignore her," she said. "Now where was I? Oh yeah the audition for Pete Malenkov…"

Fine, thought Aeryn angrily, she can stay. "Come on, Chiana," she said holding her anger in check. The human could stay and prattle all she wanted, for all Aeryn cared, but she wasn't about to let Chiana loose on the city since all that meant was a mess that she and Crichton would have to clean up, as usual.

"Look, lady, we are in the middle of a conversation here," snapped Cordelia turning to face Aeryn, before Chiana could answer. "Chiana doesn't have to do what you say and she is part of this conversation too. So why don't you back off?"

Aeryn clenched her teeth and choked down the urge to kill the girl. She turned instead and glared at Chiana who was smirking at her. What was it Crichton had told her about Chiana? Count to ten slowly before even thinking about punching her out. Too late, she thought savagely as she walked a little ways off, counting down the numbers.

Cordelia turned back to the young man. "Control freak," she told him unaware that Aeryn was still in hearing distance. "I have no clue what her problem is."

"Is she always like this?" the boy asked. Chiana grinned, and, glancing at Aeryn behind them, wisely chose to stay silent on the subject. Cordelia just continued talking, oblivious to Chiana's attempted warnings and Aeryn clenching her fists behind her.

"I don't know, but from what I've seen, she has a major attitude problem. She glares at me all the time and when I try to have a friendly little conversation with her she storms off acting all superior. And you should see the guy she came in with, now he's messed up. He talks all the time and makes the dumbest jokes you've ever heard, running around like some idiot tour guide for Miss High and Mighty there. He's like a big slobbering puppy that she just pushes away with her Ice Queen look. And that hair - let's not even go there." Aeryn listened to Cordelia rant with fire blazing in her eyes, barely containing the rage she felt inside. She had had enough of Crichton's insufferable culture, enough of the looks Chiana and Cordelia gave her over their laughter, and enough of the insults and incessant babbling. So when Cordelia finished her tirade with, "No offence Chiana, but he's more than a little crazy," she had gone too far.

"Uh, Cordy?" ventured Chiana in warning, but it was too late. Aeryn swung Cordelia around and delivered a knockout jab to her head.

 

* * *

 

John had just picked up his bag from the counter when he heard a commotion at the other end of the store. Glancing over, he saw Chiana, Aeryn, and a scared kid staring at something on the floor. Oh God, he thought as he and Wesley rushed over to find Cordelia in an unconscious heap at their feet.

"What happened?" exclaimed the Brit, dropping his bags and kneeling over her.

"She…she…"the boy stuttered staring at Aeryn then running for his life out the door. John didn’t have to guess what "she" had done.

"Aeryn, you didn’t," he said looking at her.

A small, dark smile crossed Aeryn’s face. "Yes, I did. Coming?" she asked him, turning and heading for the door.

"Damn it, Aeryn," John muttered, desperately wishing that this hadn’t happened. Punching people out in public was not good, and now Aeryn was in one of her I-am-superior moods. Silently cursing the pin-up girl for frontal assault, John furtively glanced around the store at the curious faces peering over clothing racks, grateful that no one had seen enough to merit calling the police.

"What happened, Chiana?" he asked the odd looking Nebari squatting across from Wesley.

"What does it look like?" she snapped up at him. "Aeryn punched Cordelia."

John clenched his teeth in frustration. "I know, but _why_ did she feel inclined to give her a knuckle sandwich?"

"She said some stuff," she replied avoiding John’s gaze.

"What stuff?" he persisted.

"I think she’s coming round," interrupted Wesley.

"Is Buffy's mental sister gone?" Cordelia asked groggily, holding her head tightly and sitting up. Wesley handed her a couple of Tylenol from her purse that she always kept handy for vision-aches and explained to the panicked clerk that no ambulance was necessary for Cordy's "fainting spell".

Cordelia's return to the living ended both the conversation and the shopping trip. John never did find out what she said to push Aeryn over the edge, but he figured, given Aeryn's mood, it couldn't have been much.

An hour later, the tense group was back in Angel's building. Cordelia was holding an ice pack to her eye and glaring daggers at Aeryn as they entered the office. Aeryn glared back with a triumphant gleam in her eyes just daring the human girl to give her another reason.

"How 'bout lunch?" said John trying to ease the tension and failing.

Wesley nodded, uncomfortably glancing at Cordy. "Um... Cordelia, why don't you-"

"I'm not going anywhere with _this_," she snapped pointing to her rather spectacular black eye.

"Right, then I'll just..." Wesley mumbled, "...pizza?" He looked around for confirmation, receiving only a quick nod from John among the otherwise distracted crowd. "Pizza, then," he said. "Cordelia you better stay for calls..."

"Me an' Aeryn 'll go downstairs," spoke up John, nodding to Wesley's lifted eyebrow. "Chi, why don't you stay with Cordelia?"

The thief looked up at him quizzically. "What?...Oh, yeah I'll, I'll stay," she said glancing back and forth between her new friend and her angry shipmate, catching on.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, Aeryn," John called from the refrigerator looking for something to drink. There was nothing except blood and an opened can of Pepsi that John chose to forgo. Grimacing, he decided that the idea of drinking blood was nastier than even Rygel's most prized delicacies.

"What is it, Crichton?" Aeryn asked walking into the kitchen.

John closed the fridge and pointed to his bag on the table, grinning evilly. "I got you something," he told her, enjoying the moment and anticipating the look on her face when she saw what he’d bought her.

Giving him her trademark are-you-crazy look, Aeryn opened the bag and pulled out the most ridiculous thing she had ever seen. It was a pair of undershorts like Crichton's except these had patch sized, yellow smiley-faces all over them.

"What's this?" she asked with a half smile and dancing eyes. John grinned even wider, knowing that she liked them in spite of herself.

"Your very own boxers, Sunshine, so you don't have to keep borrowing mine," he told her devilishly.

Holding her new, cheerful underwear up for closer inspection, Aeryn said, with a wry expression on her face, "I am never going to wear these."

 

* * *

 

"Spruce!" Angel called into the dark, cluttered room, "you back here?" He and D'argo were in the back storage room of The Holiday Shop, a cheerful front for Spruce's illicit activities. Large crates and cardboard boxes were stacked up to the ceiling, leaving only a few narrow paths. Styrofoam worms and shattered Christmas balls and Easter eggs crunched underfoot as the two warriors made their way through the dark to the single, uncovered lightbulb at the other end of the room.

"What is this place?" D'argo asked quietly.

"This is Spruce's storage room," replied Angel. "He's the best magic and drug dealer in LA. Anything you want, he can get. I deal with him when I need ingredients for spells or when I'm looking for someone, like now. He's got a perfect memory and knows everything about his clients in case he needs to blackmail them to keep his cover."

"So he knows you're a vampire?"

Angel nodded. "He also knows I have friends in the police department and enough dirt on him to lock him away for fifty years."

Under the light, a little redhead with glasses hunched over a rickety table covered in order forms. "Just a minute," he said not looking up from his forms and lists as the two approached.

"Happy Halloween, Spruce!" said Angel, jovially clapping the man on the back.

"Angel," the man said warily, putting down his pen and regarding his guests nervously. "What can I help you with today?" he asked.

"I need to know about a Langston demon by the name of LeCuinda," Angel told him. Behind the table, Spruce slitted his eyes, going through the filing cabinets in his mind. Angel watched, once again amazed at the brainpower of this little man and the power he held because of it.

"Yeah, I know him," Spruce said coming out of his trance. He didn't say anymore, just stared at Angel, while the vampire tried to figure out what the hell he was waiting for. "You know," said Spruce almost slyly, "blackmail or not, I know you're too honorable to not not pay me."

Why was everyone always pumping him for money? Angel wondered. "Don't push your luck," he said menacingly. Spruce sighed, disappointed and told them what he knew.

"A week ago I get a call from one of his flunkies for an order of Pleset, a drug that stimulates awareness. I had some in stock. Another one of his dudes came and picked it up. I put it on his account. End of story."

"Where does he live?" asked Angel wondering why the demon would want an awareness drug.

"Big fortress of a place in Beverly Hills," Spruce said writing the address down on a blank form. "Mando security."

"Thanks," said Angel pulling out a twenty and handing it to the little man.

"Twenty bucks?" Spruce was indignant. "A lousy twenty bucks? Are you kidding me? That was worth way more than a measly twenty! I get seventy-five for half an ounce of toenail juice and you give me twenty for grade-A information?" Angel just gave him a feral smile and disappeared into the gloom of the storage room, D'argo following closely on his heels.

"So now we go to the Bevy Hills," said D'argo softly.

"We'll go tonight," replied Angel thinking of the sun, currently high in the sky. He wouldn't be much help to D'argo if he suddenly became a pile of ash.

"Cover of darkness," said the Luxan, misinterpreting the reasoning but agreeing with the timing. Angel idly wondered what John had told him about vampires.

"What’s toenail juice?" the alien asked as they exited back into the ally where D'argo's mugger still lay unconscious.

Glancing at the closing door, Angel decided he really didn't want to know. "I have no idea," he said. "Magic's weird."

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, in a certain Beverly Hills mansion, built like a fortress, a certain demon was talking on the phone.

"I'll take no less than 500,000...He's the only one of his kind on the planet, that's why. I'm not giving him away...I've already got plans for Kyff, he won't be leaving...Don't even think about trying that, I'm the only one who can understand his gibberish...Good luck finding another Langston demon. 500,000, take it or leave it. I hear Sanders is holding an auction in two weeks. I can wait if you don't like my price. . . Good. It was a pleasure speaking with you again."

He hung up the phone, imagining the money that would soon be rolling in.

 

* * *

 

When Angel and D'argo got back, everyone was at the kitchen table chowing down on three large pizzas - cheese, pepperoni, and supreme. Cordelia and John were swapping pizza stories from high school, and in John's case college and beyond, while the others ate and listened in eager silence.

Chiana marveled at the pure fun Crichton and Cordelia had had while growing up, desperately wishing that some of it had been present in her childhood. Her had been a repressed childhood that had ended when she woke up to the unpleasant facts of her life and run away at thirteen cycles. Slamming the door on those buried memories, Chiana glanced at Aeryn. The ex-PeaceKeeper was smiling at something John had just said, but it was a sad smile, not quite understanding what the human was talking about, but longing to know - longing, Chiana realized, to have known that kind of youth, as she did. Where had they been at sixteen, when Crichton was playing tricks in the science lab and Cordelia was the center of adored attention? Chiana had been in a street gang on some wasted planet, addicted to a drug that got her thrown in the detention center. Aeryn had probably been mindlessly killing people on one PK mission or another. Some childhood.

 

* * *

 

For her part, Cordelia was surprised that the long, lost astronaut, in addition to being a total nerd, had actually had a life before leaving Earth. So her remarks that had earned her a black eye and a headache were a little off, but then she always said exactly what she thought even when she wasn't thinking. He was a little crazy, but in a good way, she decided after hearing about the time he and his friend had so many pizza boxes that they used them as a spare coffee table.

Angel and D'argo came into the kitchen then, the doom and gloom look in her boss's eye warned Cordy that something was definitely up. "Did you find the lair?" she asked getting up and grabbing a mug out of the cabinet.

"We-what happened to your eye?" Angel demanded as soon as he saw the purple bruise.

Cordelia turned away, once again embarrassed and miffed about the little incident in the store and what it had done to her face. "Aeryn hit me for no reason," she told him.

"What?" the vampire turned to the very tense people sitting at his kitchen table. Wesley looked decidedly uncomfortable, Chiana as if she were about to bolt at the first sign of trouble, and John was holding an angry Aeryn in her seat with a hand on her arm. Angel decided that now was definitely not the time. "Never mind. I'll look at it later," he said meaningfully, turning back to Cordelia.

Before she could protest, Wesley spoke up and pulled the conversation back to the matter at hand. "So what did you find out?" he asked.

"We have the address to the Langston's mansion, but Spruce said it's built like a fortress," Angel replied accepting the mug Cordelia practically slammed into his hand then pouring himself some pig's O-positive.

"We're scouting it out tonight," added D'argo, gingerly accepting a plate of pizza from John.

"What is this?" he asked as he gave the plate a careful sniff.

"Pisa" Aeryn told him around a mouthful of gluey cheese, her bad mood somewhat dissipated.

"It's tasty. You'll like it," Chiana added grinning up at him through her lashes.

The tall Luxan almost dropped his plate, eyes wide, jaw dropping to his knees, when he noticed her altered appearance. He worked his mouth trying to get some words out while John and Aeryn snickered and Wesley and Angel exchanged amused smiles behind his back. Cordelia rolled her eyes trying to surpress a totally inappropriate grin, but he looked so adorable when he was flustered that she just couldn't help it. "You look...strange," he finally managed.

"You don't look so bad yourself," Chiana replied impishly, stripping away the last shreds of dignity D'argo possessed. If he’d been human, he would have blushed.

 

* * *

 

John Crichton whistled softly through his teeth at the sight before him. "And I thought the Gammak base was bad," he muttered into the darkness.

The remote, Beverly Hills mansion that arrogantly stared down a gentle hill at its five observers was indeed, as Spruce said, built like a fortress. First there was the wrought iron fence, twelve feet high buzzing with a current that would light up downtown Los Angeles. Then the security cameras every thirty feet around the perimeter, and the security hut on the inside of the wired gate. Next, fifty yards of open lawn, sans trees, to a thirty-foot stone wall, with guardhouses, that surrounded the mansion. To complete the image of impregnability, guards and who-knows-what-else roamed the grounds, some with dogs and guns, others with just guns.

John turned to the others standing with him in a copse of palm trees across the street from the fort. "Are you sure we're not in a James Bond movie?" he sarcastically asked Angel, thinking of all the tight spots the infamous ladies man got himself into and out of. The vampire's eyes flickered to John's face before returning to their study of the mansion. "Possibly," he replied. "One reason LeCuinda got rich so fast was because he rented this place out to a couple of studios. I don't know which ones - though Cordelia could probably tell you if it was Bond or not."

Surprised, John looked back at the mansion and tried to place it in a movie he'd seen, but it wouldn't fit. He thought it ironic that here he was, in Hollywood, on a Hollywood-type rescue mission that was never going to hit the box office. He even had aliens, spaceships, and vampires in this insane situation, even romance maybe, he thought glancing at Aeryn.

"See anything else, Wes?" Angel's voice pulled John out of his deteriorating thoughts. The Brit shook his head, taking his infrared binoculars from his eyes. "Just more guards on the far parapet," he said dejectedly.

"We better go then," said Angel, turning away from the mansion and silently fading into the shadows as he walked back to his car.

On the lawn John saw something that definitely had horns and a tail walk by with what looked like a mutant lion. "This is so creepy," he muttered, shivering at the freaky sight before hurrying after the others

 

* * *

 

Back on Moya, Zhaan was worried. Aeryn hadn’t contacted them for almost a day and as a result, Zhaan was feeling helpless. She knew something was wrong because something always went wrong-there were maybe four commerce planets they had landed on that had not gotten them into some sort of trouble. Zhaan sighed and left command for her quarters, in desperate need of meditation. Just the thought of her four crewmates on the surface gave her a headache. The only good thing about the whole expedition was that Rygel was not on it. Instead, she thought, gritting her teeth as a crash resounded through Moya's hallways, she was stuck with him.

"Rygel, what are you doing?" she demanded a moment later at the doorway to Chiana's quarters.

The little dominar hovered an inch above the floor over broken jar and various trinkets Chiana had collected, looking very pleased with himself. "I’m inspecting all the rooms looking for valuable trade goods," he told Zhaan not looking up from his find. "Ah, a torlkle," he murmured picking up a shiny piece of twisted metal. "This will go very nicely in my collection."

"Rygel," Zhaan snapped walking over and pulling him out of the room. "This has gone far enough. By the time the others return, I suggest you have all their things back where you found them."

"I am a dominar of-" Rygel began pompously.

"Rygel, do you *wish* to die?" Zhaan asked exasperated but not surprised. Of all of them, Rygel was the one who had changed the least. He remained the greedy, self-serving toad she had first met when they had escaped. Would he ever learn, Zhaan wondered as she turned away to her quarters, shedding her robe as she did so.

Rygel hastily looked away from the offensive sight and zoomed to his own room with Chiana’s torlkle still in his hand. "No," he said softly to himself in response to her query. "But sometimes I wonder."

 

* * *

 

"Tea, anyone?" Angel asked as he and the scouting party tromped into his kitchen at two a.m.. He got a couple of nods from Aeryn and Wesley so he put the kettle on.

"So what do we do now?" Wesley asked what was on all their minds. D'argo and Aeryn looked at John who just shrugged and rubbed at his tired eyes. They all just sat there for a while, thinking, trying to come up with any weakness that could be exploited. It wouldn't be easy with security that tight. There were not many places Angel couldn't sneak into and the mansion was one of them. With all the wards and technology against him he would be lucky to stay in one piece long enough to heal. Shaking his head, Angel tried to think up a couple of ideas that might work.

From the expressions around the table, no one else was having much luck either. Poor Wesley was falling asleep, exhausted from working since before dawn. The ex-Watcher was good at research and paperwork, even if his "rogue demon hunting" skills left a little to be desired, Angel thought with a smile. Next to him, Aeryn traced imaginary diagrams with her finger on the tabletop. Her brow creased as she thought hard. The vampire could almost hear the cranking of the wheels in her head. D'argo suddenly got up and started pacing, clearly impatient for action instead of thought while John's eyes followed D'argo back and forth in front of the stove, his head resting on his crossed arms on the table.

"What if we get an appointment to see him?" John asked suddenly. "Say we’re from a studio wanting to rent the place for a movie, and just walk in?" His eyes darted around the table looking for reactions while his head stayed still. His two shipmates and Angel looked at him without any expression on their faces while Wesley blinked sleepily. It was possible though, Angel mused, but it wouldn't work for all of them. How would they get D'argo in, for instance?

"Crichton," said Aeryn, before Angel could voice his objections, "these types of plans of yours never work. They always backfire on us."

"Yeah, but it was never _my_ fault," the human said defensively. "And we're not dead yet, are we?"

"No thanks to you," D'argo muttered clenching and unclenching his fists, as he and Aeryn gave the poor guy the intergalactic get-real look. John lifted his head up with an outraged expression on his face.

"We could cut through the outer fence," Angel said quickly, leaning forward to distract them. He did _not_ want a repeat of this morning's fight. "If we do it in a secluded spot, the guards won't be able to hear it. Then Wesley can cast a fog spell and we can get to the inner wall. From there we just bust our way in." Aeryn and D'argo nodded, immediately liking the plan but John shook his head.

"Won't work," he said, sitting back in his chair. "That's a high voltage fence, the potential difference is probably high enough to electrocute you while you're cutting out a hole, insulation or not."

"Like that's going to kill me," Angel replied sarcastically, a little miffed that his plan was being shot down.

"But it will still knock you out, right?" John asked. Angel gritted his teeth and nodded reluctantly. "Thought so. But that's not -"

"Crichton," D'argo testily interrupted, "if that's the only option we have, then we must take it. It's an acceptable loss in fire power."

"But-" John tried again.

"Damn it, that's my son in there!" D'argo snapped slamming a fist down on the table. Wesley jerked up with a start at the noise. "Have you got a plan yet?" he asked no one in particular. Aeryn shook her head no.

"D'argo's right," Angel said to John, ignoring Wesley. "The boy is the only thing that matters." John held up a hand for silence. "I know, but shut up and listen. With that kind of voltage, electrons will be jumping the gap and _we'll_ be Kentucky fried if we try to go through that hole," he explained.

"Then what do you suggest, Crichton?" Aeryn asked tiredly. "Jump over the fence?"

John shook his head, "I don't know. There just has to..." His words trailed off as he looked at Aeryn, eyes flickering back and forth as he stared through her. Suddenly he smiled, "Aeryn, you're a genius!"

 

* * *

 

Angel stood on the roof gazing at the lighted city. It was about four in the morning; the others had gone to sleep after they had discussed and fought over John's plan, but Angel couldn't sleep. He felt guilty that he had to have their help to help them. It was an odd situation and one he wasn't comfortable with since he didn't know them that well. But he couldn't not help. And for all that he shouldn’t have trusted them, he did.

Angel sensed someone behind him and gathered his muscles in case he had to fight before realizing that it was only Aeryn. Quietly, she came up and stood beside him looking out over the city. They stood together in silence for a long while, just looking and thinking their own thoughts.

"Couldn't sleep?" Angel finally asked quietly.

Aeryn continued to look at the lights of Los Angeles debating whether or not to say anything. She was silent for so long that Angel thought she had decided not to, but then she spoke very softly, almost telling the lights, "I had a dream."

Angel recognized the unspoken pain in her voice and stayed silent. He knew the power of disturbing dreams and the raw wounds they could open.

"You're not saying much," Aeryn said, surprising Angel into looking at her.

"Should I?"

"No," she answered speaking quietly.

"I just figured that if you wanted to talk you would." They lapsed into silence again, but this time it was more comfortable.

"Why are you helping us?" Aeryn asked, suddenly breaking the stillness. "We meet you in a bar, you follow us, let us stay in your home, and we haven't even discussed payment." She looked at him questioningly and Angel could smell the slightest tinge of fear rolling off of her. Fear of the unknown.

His lips quirked into a half smile as regarded her. "Don't worry, I'm not going to eat you or anything as payment," he told her. Aeryn relaxed slightly but still waited. Angel sighed and looked back out at the lights, the smile fading into his creased, brooding brow. Before he even realized he what he was saying, he started to tell her. "For a hundred some years, I was the Scourge of Europe, the most viscous vampire in the world. I tortured and murdered countless people in the most horrible ways imaginable and I loved every instant of it." Angel glanced at Aeryn to see how she was taking the news. Her face was expressionless, but she hadn't jumped back in disgust or fear, in fact her fear was completely gone. "Then I killed a gypsy girl," he continued, "and her people cursed me. They restored my soul with a clause that said if I was ever perfectly happy it would be gone again. So for the last hundred years, I've had live with all the terrible things I did and now I'm trying to pay it all back by fighting against evil." He looked back at Aeryn to see her once more staring at the lights digesting his story.

"At least you can repay them," she finally said quietly and Angel realized with a start that tears glistened in her eyes. "All I can do is live with myself." Caught off guard, Angel had no reply to her simple admission. What had she done? he wondered, but then remembered the way she handled her gun and punched out Cordy. She was a soldier.

"What happened?" he asked in a low voice, curious but not wanting to push too hard.

"I was a peacekeeper soldier my whole life until my contact with Crichton labeled me 'irreversibly contaminated'," she said briefly. "He's my curse." Angel nodded remembering all the wars he'd seen in his lifetime. "And my blessing," Aeryn added so softly that if Angel hadn't had enhanced hearing he wouldn't have caught the words that drifted almost silently into the night.

"So," said Angel racking his brain for a change in topic, "what did you mean when you said that John's plans always backfired?"

"Not all of them, just the ones where we pose as other people," Aeryn corrected him. "Those always manage to get us almost killed. Or worse." A flash of pain crossed her face as another painful memory surfaced in her mind. "How much did Crichton tell you about us?" she asked suddenly.

"As little as possible," Angel replied wondering where this was going. "All I really know is that you’re shipmates and you’re looking for D’argo’s son."

"Did he tell you we’re fugitives?" she asked staring straight ahead. Angel could only shake his head, surprised, yet not. It fit them, he thought, the wariness, the attitude.

"I’m assuming that since you haven’t dusted me yet you aren’t going to," the vampire said lightly, not really caring what they had been imprisoned for. He trusted them enough that it didn’t matter.

Aeryn turned to him and almost smiled. "I wanted to at first, but Crichton wouldn’t let me, and since it was his planet I figured I could kill you later if I had to."

"Thanks, I’m glad I made such a good first impression," Angel said wryly.

"At least you didn’t frell up the second one," Aeryn replied, grinning contagiously, and Angel felt a smile slowly transform his face, banishing his depressed mood as the sun banishes the darkness.

 

* * *

 

"Crichton, I think there's one detail you forgot," said D'argo, walking just behind the astronaut.

"Oh, and what's that?" John demanded as they reached their destination.

"How are we all going to fit?" Angel, Crichton, Aeryn, and D'argo were in the dump at midnight, again, standing in front of Aeryn's Prowler.

"Oh, wow!" breathed Angel as he saw the fighter for the first time. "That's yours?" he asked no one in particular, staring at the beat up, yet sleek machine with a bemused smile on his face.

"It's mine," Aeryn said emphatically coming to a stop next him.

"She's beautiful," Angel commented and Aeryn smiled, pleased that he liked her ship.

"You know, the three of us fit in after we blew up Scorpy's moon," John answered D'argo, wondering just how they _had_ managed that after all.

"Well, in case you hadn't noticed, there are four of us now!" D'argo snapped.

"Gee, you think?" Crichton snapped back, starting to get really pissed off at Mr. Attitude.

D'argo glared at him, but before either of them could do anything both Aeryn and Angel stepped between them.

"Crichton," Aeryn said grabbing his attention. "We're just flying over the fence, not at high altitude, right?" she asked. John nodded wondering what she was thinking. "Then one of you three can ride outside the cockpit."

The three men stared at her in disbelief wondering if they had just heard what they thought they had. "Are you insane?" John demanded when he finally managed to pick his jaw up off the ground.

"No more than you are," Aeryn replied. She turned away then and climbed into the cockpit of her ship to get ready for take-off.

John looked at the other two men who hadn't moved. Which of them got the joyride? John hoped like hell that it wouldn't be him, but with his luck he would be the one on the outside without a parachute.

"I'll do it," said Angel unexpectedly. John could have kissed him; D'argo just stared. "What?" the vamp asked him. "It sounds like fun."

They walked over to the Prowler and John snickered when he heard D'argo mutter "I'm surrounded by Crichtons."

 

* * *

 

LeCuinda was in his office on the top floor of his mansion when he heard the sounds of engines, yells, and gunfire. Rushing to his window, he saw a strange and frightening sight. A black fighter plane had landed inside the stone wall and was firing explosive energy at his guards who screamed and fell with burning holes in their chests. Even his demons were slowed by the firestorm. A man in black suddenly dropped from the top of the plane and three more leapt out of the cockpit, weapons drawn. By the time LeCuinda had gathered his scattered wits, the four intruders were already in the building.

 

* * *

 

Once inside the building the four rescuers split up; Angel and D'argo went left, Aeryn and Crichton went right. Each pair was looking for a way to the basement where Jothee was most likely to be held.

There were just two problems with the Crichton's plan: they didn't know where the stairs down were, and there were humans and demons inside attacking them. Stealthily, D'argo and Angel slid down the hallway, opening or breaking open every door they came to. Then the sound of pounding feet reached them from the end of the corridor. With only a glance between them, the two warriors turned into a low, servants' hallway and let the feet pass by. When silence reigned again they continued their search.

Their first encounter came as soon as they rounded the next corner. Two scaly, drooling demons jumped back in surprise, a hesitation that cost them their heads as both Qualta blade and sword swept them from their hunched shoulders.

Ten minutes, and several dead guards later, they found the stairs. Cautiously, Angel led the way down the dark passage. Halfway down, the wooden stairs gave way to concrete and D'argo knew they were underground. There was a light at the end of the passageway and as they drew nearer to it, D'argo's hearts began to beat twice as fast. Jothee was at the end of the tunnel.

So were five human guards and a very smug Sebacean. Two bullets hit Angel as he and D'argo exploded from the tunnel. The vampire vamped out and slashed the neck of the nearest guard as he kicked another across the room. D'argo shot a third with his rifle then shifted it back into blade mode to spear the panicked guard running at him as Angel disarmed the fifth.

"Well done, Luxan," the Sebacean complimented drawing a pulse pistol and firing at Angel. D'argo's companion flinched as the little yellow bolt of light hit his shoulder and sent him to the ground with the guard he held. "Pathetic monsters they have here on Earth," the Sebacean told D'argo conversationally.

The Luxan glanced down at Angel, his face normal again, who nodded toward the cell door behind the Sebacean. D'argo had the distinct feeling that a Crichton Plan was about to happen, and he realized that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing at the moment.

"Where is my son?" D'argo growled, focusing on the bounty hunter.

The Sebacean leered back at him. Angel inched himself toward the cell door.

"He's locked up in there," the bounty hunter said nodding his head at the door behind him.

"And there is no key down here. If you kill me you never get through that door to your son. Ever."

Panic oozed into D'argo's bloodstream at an exponential rate. Was that the truth? Must he spare the creature that had murdered his old friend and kidnapped his son? Blind hatred for the being before him and the fear that he would never see his Jothee again drove D'argo to attack. He charged the Sebacean and knocked the pulse pistol out of his hand before he had a chance to fire. The two fell to the ground, D'argo on top with his hands around the other's throat, squeezing out his life.

 

* * *

 

"Down!" Aeryn yelled at Crichton who dropped to the floor immediately so the ex-peacekeeper could fire at the man behind him. Aeryn didn't wait for him to drop, dead, as she and Crichton continued through the maze of hallways. They checked every door for stairs or anything else that might lead to Jothee, knocking off any – thing – that got in their way.

"Aeryn, look at this," said John after he kicked open another door and shot something inside.

Aeryn glanced inside and saw electronic and video surveillance equipment.

"It's not stairs," she said moving back into the hall, but Crichton grabbed her arm and dragged her in with him.

"No, but we might be able to turn off the fence from here and that sure beats busting through it with an extra person," he told her closing the door that had a hole instead of a doorknob.

"Can you cover me while I figure this thing out?" he asked turning to the gray panels laden with switches and dials.

Aeryn rolled her eyes and took up a position by the door. Guard duty was not her favorite occupation, but since Crichton wasn't going to leave . . .

All of a sudden, an alarm went off, and Aeryn nearly jumped out of her skin. She watched the door carefully, pistol straight out in front of her ready for anything. Then the glaring ringing stopped.

"Guess that wasn't it," Crichton muttered. Aeryn could have killed him but as that wasn't an option, she glared at his back instead.

John fiddled around for a few more minutes - no more alarms went off - while Aeryn tensely watched the door getting bored. She wanted to be out in the halls searching for Jothee, doing anything but stand and wait while John played with the electronics.

"Okay, I think I got it. I got it," Crichton finally said, much to Aeryn's relief. Cautiously, she opened the door and poked her head out. It was clear in both directions. "Which way?" John asked just behind her. Aeryn shrugged and led the way down the hall to the left.

 

* * *

 

As soon as he saw D'argo charge, Angel jumped up, vamped out, and tore down the heavy cell door. The crack between the doorjamb and the door on the hinge side was big enough for him to get his fingers in, so with a mighty roar he pulled. The two hinges twisted and broke under the stress and the door opened wrong side out.

Still vamped, Angel rushed in and found a skinny, miniature D'argo chained to a rough bed with a look of confusion and fear on his ragged face. He entered slowly and changed his face back to human so as not to startle the boy but he did anyway.

"I'm here to help," he said, reaching for the chain that held the Jothee prisoner. As he did so, the boy recoiled. Not sure what to make of it, Angel broke the chain.

"@!&amp; $%&amp; %^* ^#$@#%%&amp;?" Jothee asked.

"I have no idea what you just said," Angel replied, crouching by the bed, confused. It took him a moment to remember that Jothee did not have the universal translation spell cast on him.

But before he could wonder what to do about communication, Jothee wrapped his thin arms around him and sobbed into his shirt.

A minute later, D'argo rushed in and Angel found himself enveloped in yet another set of Luxan arms.

 

* * *

 

"John? Aeryn?" there were tears in D'argo's voice over the comms.

"Yeah, Big Guy," replied John breathlessly awaiting news as he and Aeryn stopped short in the hall.

"We found him," both Aeryn and John let out their held breath. "But he's sick and hurt. We must take him directly to Moya."

"We're on are way," said Aeryn turning to retrace their steps. "The fence is off, so tell Angel to call Wesley. And, congratulations, D'argo."

 

* * *

 

Jothee was exhausted. And confused. The man who resembled his father was urging him to get up but Jothee didn't know if he could trust him. Hadn't his father killed his mother or was it his commanding officer or the peacekeepers? Wasn't his father dead by Kyff's torturing knife or was that what was going to happen? But what about the man who he remembered as his father, the one who loved him and played him music - was he dead and tortured, too? Must be because every creature Jothee had ever met was dead because of him. It was his fault. If he hadn't been alive or born, none of them would have died.

Searing pain shot through Jothee's hearts and mind as he relived his shame. He clenched his eyes shut to try stop the white hot burning that threatened to overwhelm him. Flashes of the bloody holovids ran through his head taunting him. "This is what you did!" his conscious screamed. "You almost a man grown, a warrior!, let this happen! _It is your fault!_"

"What's wrong?! What's going on?" an anxious, panicky voice demanded. A hand touched his shoulder and Jothee jerked away and grabbed a handful of cloth from somewhere. Then he noticed that strong arms held his thrashing body and he tried to get away. It was Kyff and Kyff meant more pictures, more drugs to make him see, more words that made him want to die for what he'd done.

"Jothee!" a different voice called. "I don't know what's wrong. Jothee! Come back to us; you're safe."

And then he remembered the noise of the fight, the door, the creature that wasn't sebacean or anything he'd seen before. He remembered feeling safe when the creature came in and broke his chains even with a sebacean face. Safe, he thought before sinking into exhausted oblivion.

 

* * *

 

"He's out," Angel told D'argo who was hovering over him and the boy in his arms.

"Do you know what happened?" asked the Luxan, his fear evident in his voice. He tentatively reached out to touch Jothee, but stopped his hand just shy of his son's shoulder.

Angel shook his head as he tried one handedly to pry Jothee's fingers off his shirt without ripping it, but the boy held on. "I don't know," he sighed. "Might have been the drug,. We'll figure it out later. Uh...since he's attached..." Angel looked uncomfortably up at D'argo who only nodded sadly and turned to the door.

With Angel carrying the frail youth and D'argo leading the way, the three of them managed to sneak out of a side door to the grounds leaving only two dead guys in their wake. In the bailey, six guards, each properly armed and dangerous surrounded Aeryn's Prowler. D'argo glanced at his unconscious son in Angel's arms then back at the Prowler, before leading the way through the shadows to the stone wall. Within minutes they were on the other side via a lightly manned door with a weak lock. The distance to the main gate was open but luckily it seemed that all the roamers had been pulled to search the house for its flamboyant visitors.

Angel and D'argo were about to start their mad dash across, when Wesley suddenly drove up to the front gate in his boss's car. Before the man in the guardhouse could blink, Chiana had jumped from the backseat to the top of the fence. The guard had just stepped out with his gun when the nimble thief jumped on top of him and knocked him out. A few moments, later the gate was open and Wesley was speeding to meet them. Unfortunately, this attracted the attention of the watchers on the wall. Amid the shouting voices, Angel with Jothee, and D'argo scrambled into the convertible. By the time they passed through the gate, a loaded SUV was on their tail.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, John and Aeryn were running down a back staircase as silently as possible. They were getting low on cartridges for their pulse pistols and they didn't want to waste any power on stray bad guys.

"D'argo said six?" John queried as he and Aeryn approached the large, potholed front door.

Aeryn nodded and took a closer look through one of the holes, careful to stay in the shadows. "Sniper shots should do it," she said watching the men outside. "Think you can handle the two on the left?" she asked moving aside so he could see. John grinned at her and found another hole to shoot through.

"Just like shooting womprats back home," he said lightly, enjoying the irritated look Aeryn gave him.

Soon, four of the six men outside were down and the last two were firing back. Two minutes and two bodies later, the two snipers were in the Prowler, taking off for outer space.

 

* * *

 

The six people in Angel's car barely made it to the dump alive. And the gunfire from the following car was not the problem. The insane, suicidal, and manic driving used in an effort to lose the guns behind them was what kept getting them almost killed every time they rounded a corner. Cordelia was just grateful that Angel's reflexes could handle it. And that she couldn't see what they were nearly missing from her place on the floor with the others.

"Come on!" Angel shouted as the car stopped all of a sudden, once more bruising its low-lying passengers. "They're right behind us!" Everyone picked themselves up as fast as they could and jumped out. Cordelia could hear the SUV crashing through the dump as she followed Chiana to the big, tan thing and went up the ladder and through a door that in its side.

Inside, Cordelia slumped against the wall next to Wesley and vacantly watched D'argo and Chiana rush around the front of the room a minute before sitting down in the only two seats. Nearby Angel held the unconscious and sickly Luxan they had rescued. Only when the wall started to vibrate did it register in Cordelia's brain that they were not in a stationary building.

 

* * *

 

Zhaan waited anxiously with John, Aeryn, and Rygel while the transport pod finally docked. As soon as it had touched the deck, the door opened and D'argo rushed to her carrying a young Luxan in his arms. Zhaan's soul went out to the boy who had been badly mistreated. His clothes were mere rags and he was grossly underweight. Touching his head, the priestess could feel the pain and suffering just under the delicate shield of unconsciousness.

"Wow. Big," Zhaan heard someone say. Glancing up, she saw three humans standing next to a strangely dressed Chiana. They were gazing about the docking bay with wonder on their faces. "I can't believe it," one of the males said in almost a PK accent. "Uh...hello," he said when he caught sight of Rygel and Zhaan. The blue priestess nodded in response, amused at the female's gaping, the male-who'd-spoken's wide eyes, and the other male’s surprise.

As Zhaan turned back to Jothee, she heard Rygel begin his Speech. Ignoring him, Zhaan led the way, silently and quickly, to the apothecary. Once there, D'argo laid Jothee on the sick table and stepped back to let his friend work. Wearing her clear, protective robe, Zhaan gently examined the young Luxan for external injuries and signs of torture.

"Angel thinks they gave him a drug to keep him awake," D'argo said helpfully when she started to draw blood. "When we found him he was first relieved, then scared. He thought we were going to hurt him and tried to get away."

"Other than the bruises around his wrists and ankles and the malnutrition, they didn't physically beat him," Zhaan told him as she put the blood sample in a testing machine.

"Then what happened?" D'argo almost shouted, the worry and fear fueling his anger.

Zhaan looked sadly over at her friend. He had searched so long for his son only to find him hurt and untrusting. It was a terrible, painful blow and one that Zhaan was unable to heal. "The only answer is mental torture. That would explain the stimulant. I shall speak with him when he wakes and then we will know more." The blood scanner finished its analysis and Zhaan turned away to read the results. Much to her dismay, the priestess and healer-by-default could hear D'argo pacing behind her. "D'argo," she said gently. The worried warrior stopped and searched her face for any new developments in the last micron. "When was the last time you slept?" she asked.

D'argo shook his head in frustration before answering. "I don't know. Yesterday."

"Then go to quarters and sleep, sweet D'argo," Zhaan told him. He looked like he was about to protest, then figured it would do him no good, which it wouldn't, and left.

 

* * *

 

"Oh God!" whispered Cordelia as Aeryn and John led them onto the Terrace. Wesley couldn't form a coherent thought, much less words, at the sight of all the stars and no wall to hold them back. It was simply breathtaking.

Wesley came to a stop next to Angel; Cordelia was on the vampire's other side. They stood a little closer than they would have under normal circumstances, humbled by the immensity of the universe. The stars went on forever, in every direction. They sparkled like glitter on a black cloth, a tapestry of struggling light so beautiful it is beyond all comprehension. How insignificant they were in the face of eternity, thought Wesley.

Then he saw the Earth, the mostly harmless, blue orb, with clouds swirling over the surface like white cotton candy. His planet, his world that he fought to protect, seemed so peaceful, so fragile in the black depths. Too often man forgot that they were part of something bigger, something profound that rose above all else.

"Well, Angel," Cordelia said softly after a long while, "you've been to Hell and now you can say you've seen a piece of Heaven, too."

A smile slowly spread across Angel's face. "And you can say you've been among more stars than anyone can count," he replied fondly, taking her hand.

"Foreshadows for you both," Wesley whispered. A moment later, he felt Angel's cool fingers grasp his own, linking the three of them in the moment. They didn't notice when their guides left, smiling. They simply stood in silent communion, watching eternity.

 

* * *

 

Jothee woke in a strange place with golden walls, vials with colored liquids, jars of herbs, and a Delvian woman sitting nearby. He was cold, sore, and had a headache that could knock out a giant Hibbcat. Then the memories returned but not with the brutalizing force as before.

"Hello, Jothee," the Delvian said standing up. "How are you feeling?" She placed her hand on his forehead. Jothee tried to shy away but found he didn't have the strength. So weak, he thought in anguish. So weak he'd killed everyone he'd known. Tears slid out of his eyes as he remembered how he'd failed.

"My fault," he murmured. "Dead because of me." His confession rang in his ears, slamming the guilt and shame into his hearts with ripping force. The Delvian's hands were on his head again and then he felt a presence in his mind. He ran away, his mental image sprinting away from the presence and the horrors he'd seen to the dark waterfall of shame and the safety he'd felt with the strange sebacean. Then just as suddenly as it had come, the presence left, and he was alone again.

Vaguely, he heard the Delvian call someone, and a few minutes later two more voices were speaking with her. "Jothee," one of them called and he recognized it as his rescuer. Opening his eyes, he saw the changeable sebacean sitting on the edge of his bed. Another sebacean man was beside the Delvian and if it hadn't been for the remnants of his Luxan pride, Jothee would have screamed. As he looked fearfully from one to another, he realized something about the three beings. In their eyes, he saw that they _knew_. Another wave of guilt washed through him and he tried to stem the flow of tears from his eyes.

"Jothee," his rescuer said again soothingly. "What happened in that room?" he asked gently. Jothee couldn't, it hurt too much. "No one's going to hurt you. The man who kidnapped you is dead. Forever. The only way to kill him in your mind is to confront him and fight him in your mind."

"I can't. I'm too weak," Jothee rasped, feeling utterly worthless.

"I'll help if you let me," his rescuer said. "But I have to know what happened. You are strong enough to tell me what happened." And for some reason, Jothee believed him, at least a little. So bit by bit, with lots of prompting, he told what went on during his captivity. By the time he'd finished he was exhausted yet relieved in a small way. No one had said anything, no condemnation, no loathing, just acceptance and for some reason that was important. As sleep claimed him, he heard someone say softly, "He'll heal."

 

* * *

 

"Good morning," John sang cheerfully as he walked into the Center chamber for breakfast two days later.

"Morning," Wesley replied, looking up. Chiana nodded and Cordelia broke off her conversation with Rygel.

"You know, you really need to get a cappuccino machine in here," Cordelia told him. "Coffee is, like, essential to waking up."

John smiled lightly. "Yeah sorry, I didn't pick one up at the last Starbucks floating in space," he replied wryly. Wesley laughed at this as Cordelia realized she was being made fun of. Chiana grinned, puzzled but enjoying the incomprehensible conversation anyway. His frogness hrmphed, not pleased that his former insulting partner was no longer paying him any attention. He was being ignored. Again.

"Though I'm sure," said Wesley, "that if they could, Starbucks would have a shop on every possible planet." John grinned again and nodded in agreement.

"And why would you know anything about that? You don't drink coffee," Cordy huffily told her British friend.

"I don't drink _your_ coffee," he answered making John laugh and Cordelia roll her eyes.

"What's going on?" a new voice asked as Angel walked in.

"_Nothing,_" the brunette replied, glaring daggers at Wes. "And that's another thing," she said pointedly turning back to John who had settled down, "Angel hasn't eaten for days and unless you want to become breakfast you need to get him some blood."

"Cordelia..." Angel tried but John nodded in agreement.

"Aeryn and I were talking about that. We also need to make a supply run so we were thinking about taking you guys home today." He looked around at Moya's guests for approval.

"Thanks," said Angel. "We still have the whole save the world thing and it's kinda hard to do from up here."

"Say no more," John smiled. "You'll be home before sunrise."

 

* * *

 

D'argo was nervous. He didn't know what to do to get Jothee to trust him again. Pilot had suggested playing his shiliquin but D'argo was afraid of what his half-grown his son might think. He felt like they had nothing in common except their blood and it scared him. Cursing Kyff and Macton as he paced in his quarters, the tall warrior once again swore to kill them for what they had done to his family. His frantic eyes skimmed over his belongings again and since there was nothing else he could think of to do, he picked up his shiliquin and went to Jothee's room.

His son lay awake on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He sat up as soon as he heard D'argo at the door, a look of apprehension on his face. D'argo paused, as the look seared through him like a hot knife.

"I, uh...I wanted to..."D'argo stuttered losing every nervous word that entered his mind. "I mean...uh..." finally he presented his musical instrument. "Would you like me..." he trailed off, terrified of the answer.

Slowly, Jothee nodded and D'argo felt like he had been born again. He smiled gratefully, sat on the wall shelf, and began to play. It was an old lullaby that he had played for Jothee as a baby, and with his son sitting in front of him, the only song he could remember. As he wove the melody together from memory, he watched his child relax and was content.

 

* * *

 

"Home again, at last," Cordelia said as Angel parked his car in its spot in the parking garage. It was just after dark. John and Aeryn had pawned a few of Rygel's trinkets and were now at a grocery store down the street buying supplies. Cordelia had strongly suggested that they might want to shop on their own, so they had gone on ahead, leaving the pair armed with stakes in addition to their guns.

Angel unlocked his door and the three detectives trooped in, sitting down tiredly at the kitchen table.

"You know," said Cordelia after a minute, "with all the traveling I do, I think I should get a raise." Angel and Wesley just looked at her. "Well, maybe not a raise, but I do get the day off tomorrow," she declared, brooking no argument. Her boss just nodded silently, his eyes far off in thought.

"It was amazing, wasn't it?" Wesley said glancing at his friends. There was a touch of awe in his voice that Cordelia understood because she still felt it too.

"Certainly not our average demon case," Angel replied.

"You know what Chiana said?" Cordy asked, suddenly excited. "She said we should make tapes like John does for his dad, so when they come back we can swap. Sorta like penpals." She paused and the smile faded. "I think I'm gonna miss her."

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later, after Cordelia and Wesley had gone home, someone knocked on Angel's door. The vampire had just finished eating and was definitely ready for a nap, but he answered it anyway and found John on his doorstep.

"Hey," John said walking in when Angel stepped aside for him. "Aeryn's with our stuff; it's kind of a lot," he explained.

"And since I'm driving anyway," Angel finished, smiling. John rewarded him with a zany grin.

"Yeah, well. Hey, can I use your phone again?" the roving human asked. Angel nodded and pointed to it on the end table by the couch. He could guess whom he was going to call so he went into the kitchen to give him a little more privacy. John took the cordless to the back of the apartment and returned a few minutes later, disappointed.

"Did you reach him?" Angel asked concerned.

John shook his head. "No, I left a message. I really wish I could have talked to him. Said goodbye." He shook his head again and put the phone down.

"Can I give you some advice?" the vampire made contact with John's eyes before continuing. "I can tell life on the lam has been rough for you guys. It's a hard road, especially alone. If she's worth giving up Earth for and going back, you need to let her know - really *know* - before circumstances tear you apart."

As their gaze held, images of his life, love, and loss of the Slayer flashed through Angel's mind, testing the strength of his undead heart. In those moments, the two men connected and Angel could see the love and fear in John's eyes.

 

* * *

 

The now familiar dump was quiet in the night. Only Angel's car disturbed the tranquil trash as they drove back to the transport pod. Loading the supplies - chocolate, beer, and coffee among others - took very little time and soon they were ready to go.

"So I guess this is it," John said turning to Angel.

"Yeah," the souled vamp replied, sighing. Aeryn shifted uncomfortably, wanting to say something but not knowing what. "Good luck," she heard him say.

"You too," John answered. Angel nodded and Aeryn met his sad eyes before he turned back towards his car.

"Angel," she called, stopping him halfway around. "Someone once told me that it's not who you were, but who you are that matters. And the man you are is a good man." Their eyes met again and he smiled.

"Have faith in yourselves, both of you," he replied glancing between the two of them. Then he turned to his car and they to their pod and they parted ways.

 

* * *

 

"This is Jack Crichton. I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the beep."

"Hey Dad, John again, your long, lost son. Look, I know you think I'm dead but I'm really not. I just wanted you to know that. I mailed you some tapes that I've made over the past year and I want you to have them. They'll explain a lot of what's happened to me out there. You'd love it, well, most of it. God, I wish I could really talk to you now. Say hi to DK for me, tell him the module's been improved and that I miss him. Send my love to Susan and Olivia......I love you, Dad. I'm sorry I can't stay this trip. I've got an adopted family of sorts I can't leave right now, but I'll be back. I promise."

 

* * *

  
The End


End file.
